


Finding Your Way Home

by magicalIdiot



Series: A Reimagined Verdant Wind [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, At some point I'm going to stop updating the character tags because they're getting too long, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd-centric, Everyone is recruited except Edelgard and Hubert, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Gen, Nightmares, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Recovery is long and hard and Dimitri is doing his best, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Suicidal Ideation, canon-typical trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 54,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21656140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalIdiot/pseuds/magicalIdiot
Summary: aka Dimitri gets the recovery arc he deservesGolden Deer AU where they save Dimitri at Gronder Field, everyone is recruited, and we don't ignore our trauma or gloss over it in one five-minute recovery cutscene where suddenly everything is all right afterwards
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez & Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Flayn, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Leonie Pinelli, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Mercedes von Martritz, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Petra Macneary, Dimtri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Bernadetta von Varley
Series: A Reimagined Verdant Wind [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799512
Comments: 149
Kudos: 245
Collections: Bread Eaters





	1. Step 1: Get Captured By Someone Who Cares

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be part of a series, and it will have multiple chapters. I have plans >:)
> 
> Most of this fic is told from Dimitri's perspective, so just remember that your narrator is highly unreliable and very much not aware of the full situation. The later fics in this series shed a little more light on the full picture.

**Great Tree Moon, Day 30**

Dimitri saw Edelgard at Gronder Field, and his vision went red. He was vaguely aware of a flash of pink hair and someone with a strong build grappling him, trying to stop him from moving forward, but he pushed them both off and kept running. He reached Edelgard just in time to spot a set of familiar faces— from his academy days, perhaps? but it didn’t matter anymore— darting out of the way of Edelgard’s axe. Perfect. He could finally take her head, get the revenge he deserved, let his parents and Glenn rest—

“Flame Emperor!” Dimitri roared, charging at her with his lance extended. “It is time to pay for your sins!”

If Edelgard said something in response, Dimitri didn’t hear it. The next few minutes were a blur of blocked strikes and failed jabs, blood spurting and pain blooming and vision darkening. Dimitri’s whole body shook with exertion and his breath came out in short pants, but his opponent was finally looking worse for wear. He would finish this now. He lunged forward, swatting a couple of Adrestrian soldiers out of the way, only to find that his opponent was backing away slowly. Fleeing? That would not be allowed, not after he’d gotten so close!

Dimitri started to run forward to pursue his prey and found his path blocked by beefy muscles, pink hair, and blinding gold brilliance. 

“Get out of my way!” Dimitri yelled, swinging his lance wildly. Despite his waning strength, he had enough fight in him to knock the pink haired girl to the side and push against the strong gauntlets of another former classmate. Waste of effort, waste of space, waste of time! Dimitri stabbed blindly at a fool with purple hair who dared to stand in his way and grinning maniacally as his lance drew blood. Someone yelled something in the background and dragged the purple haired mage away, and Dimitri ran forward once more. A wyvern swooped down, blocking his path once again.

“Sorry, your Kingliness, but there’s no way you’re going to win that fight with her.” Claude von Riegan, with his annoying smile and annoying shiny look.

“Who gives a damn if I win? Let me through,” Dimitri growled.

“No can do,” Claude said with a wink, drawing his bow. “Sorry to let you down, but you’re coming with us.”

And then Dimitri felt a very strong blow to the back of his head, and everything went black.

~*~

**Harpstring Moon, Day ??**

Dimitri awoke in a room that was so familiar to him, he had to wonder if he had been transported five years into the past. Except— no, his voices were still there, urging him to kill every Imperial soldier on the route to Edelgard, and he only had one eye. It wasn’t so easy to go back to a better time, when the voices had been tamer. Dimitri didn’t want to go back, anyway. He was so close to satisfying the voices, if only he could separate Edelgard’s head from her shoulders—

“Oh, Dimitri, you’re awake,” someone said, someone with a sweet, gentle voice, but Dimitri couldn’t look away from the ghost of Glenn sitting at the foot of his bed, his father looming behind Glenn and his mother standing beside him. Was the gentle voice saying something else? Dimitri couldn’t hear it anymore, not with the hisses of his victims at his ears, guilting him, calling him a monster, as they should, for he  _ was _ a monster and he deserved to be treated like one, to be killed once his work was done.

Dimitri felt a hand on his forehead, and immediately he grabbed the wrist of the perpetrator. “Do not touch me,” he growled, tossing the wrist aside. His vision was swimming and graying at the edges as he struggled to remember how he’d ended up here, back at the monastery, in his old room.

“You’re here because you’re a failure,” Glenn said snidely, jumping off the bed and sauntering over to stand next to Dimitri’s head. “You couldn’t bring the lance down on Edelgard’s neck.”

“You’re a failure of a monster, not even good for killing. How could you let us down like that, Dimitri?” his father said, voice booming loud enough to make Dimitri wince.

“Please, don’t be mad, Father. I will find her again, and this time, I will finish the job,” Dimitri pleaded. Oh, he could not bear to see the cold look in his father’s disappointed gaze.

“—mitri. Do you think you can open your mouth for me?” Dimitri shook his head, bringing his hands to his pounding skull. His head felt like it was going to explode from the pressure of the disappointment, the shame. Edelgard had been right in front of him, and he’d failed because of—

“Claude von Riegan,” Dimitri growled, his nails digging into the skin at his temples. “I’ll kill him, and anyone else who gets in my way. I swear it.”

“Hmm. I don’t think killing Claude is such a good idea. After all, he was the one that spared your life,” the sweet voice said. Dimitri struggled to look around the room, his eye still pulsing with pain and his vision still blurry, but his gaze settled on a woman with purple eyes, short chestnut hair, and a gentle smile. If his head hadn’t been pounding, maybe he could have remembered her name. As it was, he couldn’t recognize her at all.

“I’ll kill you first!” Dimitri cried out, and he tried to lunge forwards, but his joints creaked in protest and pain shot through his whole body. The girl knelt down next to his bed, her hands glowing with light, and the pain eased slightly, replaced by fatigue.

“Listen to what she says, you fool. You need to figure out where you are so you can get back to Edelgard,” Dimitri heard his mother say, even as his eye drooped. Dimitri forced himself awake and tried to focus on the voice of the unknown woman, tried to figure out what she was saying.

“--need to get some rest. I’ve let Claude know that--” Dimitri’s consciousness was fading; he could hardly stay awake. “--but we all agree that it would be best for you to rest for now.”

“I don’t… need rest…” Dimitri’s muscles were heavy, but he tried to sit up anyway. “Edelgard… I need…” Every word was becoming harder to say. He felt someone put a cup to his lips and tried to resist, but all of his energy had left him. A cool, refreshing liquid ran down the back of his throat, and he swallowed involuntarily.

“That should help with the nightmares, okay? Get a good night’s rest, and we can talk later.”

“Nngh…” Dimitri’s eye closed against his will, and he fell back into darkness.

~*~

When Dimitri next awoke, he could hear whispers coming from somewhere above him. He couldn’t quite make out what the voices were saying, but he recognized that they were not the voices of the dead. They were too relaxed, too cautious, too calm. Dimitri struggled to sit up in his bed. The pain from his injuries had faded some, and he was able to at least partially rest his head against the bed frame without too much trouble. He wanted so badly to jump out of bed, but before he could move farther, two strong hands settled on his shoulders, holding him down. He suddenly became aware of the silence in the room; the whispers had ceased.

“Dimitri.” Dimitri looked up to find a determined pair of eyes looking back at him. Now this was a face he recognized.

“Professor,” Dimitri said coldly. “I ought to rend your flesh from your bones for getting in my way.”

“What happened to you in the five years I was gone?” Byleth asked, their voice even despite the hint of pity in their eyes.

“Ha! Who cares what has happened in the last five years? The only thing that  _ hasn’t _ happened is the one thing that matters!” Glenn cackled, and Dimitri winced because Glenn was right, Glenn was always right. He’d failed in the biggest way possible.

“I  _ will _ kill that woman. I swear it,” Dimitri said firmly.

“Edelgard?” Byleth asked.

“I suppose you plan to reason with her, Professor? The same way you’re trying to reason with me?” Dimitri laughed maniacally. “She’s a bigger monster than I am, Professor. At least the blood on my hands is from people who deserved it.”

Byleth shook their head, their mouth set in a small frown. “Edelgard is set in her ways. She will not give up until she is killed.”

“Then why are you keeping me here? Let me go to her and give her what she deserves,” Dimitri hissed.

“Why do you want to kill her?” Byleth asked.

“The dead want their tribute,” Dimitri answered gravely.

“And what do  _ you _ want?”

“I want to separate Edelgard’s head from her shoulders!” Dimitri roared, and he nearly left it at that, but his teacher’s gaze held him, willing the words out of him that he had so long been wanting to speak. “I want the dead’s memory to be honored, I want to do what’s right, I want…” Dimitri’s voice was quiet and trembling now, his vision blurry with tears. He hadn’t known that beasts could cry. “I want to be free,” he said finally, his body going limp like a child after finishing a temper tantrum. 

Dimitri didn’t expect to be pulled into a hug, but once it happened, he couldn’t help but melt into it so greedily. He gripped Byleth’s jacket with his hands and sobbed into their shoulder, his whole body shaking. When was the last time he let himself cry? When had he last been held?

Dimitri expected Byleth to stop him after a while, to throw him away in disgust and leave, but they never did, so Dimitri cried until his whole body was drained of energy and his eye dry of tears. Byleth held him still, their grip strong and their arms warm. Strength… Dimitri might have raw strength at his disposal, but Byleth was the embodiment of strength in their steadfast disposition.

“Professor… why did you not kill me at Gronder Field?” Dimitri whispered, his voice raspy after crying for so long.

“You were not in my house, but you were still my student,” Byleth said firmly.

“I… I don’t deserve your kindness,” Dimitri said, tears welling up in his eyes again. “I am nothing more than a beast. I don’t—”

“Enough of that,” Byleth said, using a tone of voice that Dimitri had once heard quite often from Ingrid when she was scolding Felix for training so soon after an injury. Perhaps, in a way, all of this— this despair, these ghosts, his overwhelming desire for revenge— was an injury of its own. “You’ve been alone with your demons for a long time. It is only natural that you would be lost.”

Lost… yes, that was probably a good way to put it. Dimitri was so, so lost, and he so desperately wanted a way out of this situation where he didn’t have to kill Edelgard, and yet he couldn’t think of another way to get the revenge his family deserved. He was a beast because only a beast could do what was needed. But maybe… Dimitri remembered the sorrow in Claude’s eyes as he had raised his bow against Dimitri at Gronder Field. There was more than sorrow, though— there was hope for a better ending. With Claude’s hope and Professor Byleth’s strength, maybe there was another way for him.

As if reading Dimitri’s mind, Byleth said, “Professor Manuela is preparing a therapy regimen for you, if you are willing.”

Therapy. Dimitri the Crown Prince had never had time for therapy, or processing what he’d seen at Duscur, or taking a break from the job. Dimitri had a country to lead. Dimitri the King had not even worn the crown before being executed, wiped from existence. Dimitri the Beast had no desire for rehabilitation. But Dimitri the Human wanted to remember what it was like to feel something other than despair or hatred, or what it was like to taste food.

“I… I’ll try it,” Dimitri said finally.

“Good.” Byleth smiled. “Get some rest,” they said quietly, gently lowering Dimitri’s head onto his pillow. “When you wake, we can talk about more about ways to help you be… free.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri murmured, his eyelid drooping. “Thank you.”


	2. Step 2: Silence the Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first step of recovery is committing to it. Some say that’s the hardest part, but Dimitri isn’t so sure about that. Luckily, Claude had a plan, because Claude always has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for suicidal ideation and general depression-type thoughts!

**Harpstring Moon, Day Unknown**

Professor Manuela had been very insistent in her first therapy session with Dimitri that getting rid of the ghosts was the first priority. Dimitri didn’t even think that was possible, but apparently Professor Manuela, Professor Byleth, and Claude had thought up a series of plans together—plans were his strength, weren’t they—to try and silence the voices in his head. The first part of the plan was to get sleep, which wasn’t too hard at first. Dimitri had taken quite a beating at Gronder Field, and for the first few days of his time in the infirmary, he wasn’t able to stay awake for very long, just long enough to eat some bread or hold a short conversation. After the injuries started to heal, however, sleep didn’t come as easily. The nightmares returned with vigor, and Dimitri struggled to sleep through the night.

Luckily, Claude had a plan, because Claude always has a plan. “I have an idea,” he declared, barging in to the infirmary without warning. Dimitri had gotten used to Mercedes, Marianne, and Manuela being around frequently, tending to his wounds and making small talk with him, consoling him when he awoke from his nightmares, but this was the first time he’d seen Claude, and just seeing those infuriatingly bright robes intensified his headache and prompted the ghosts of the dead to will, even more strongly, for Dimitri to escape, to kill, to stay the course.

But no. Dimitri wanted to get better. He wanted to remember what it felt like to be happy, and Professor Manuela had promised him a path that didn’t involve more senseless bloodshed. Dimitri forced himself to focus on Claude’s cocky voice and signature smile. “Here.” He set a bottle down on the bedside table. “I take this when I have trouble sleeping. My nightmares might not be as bad as yours, but it might help.”

“What is it?” Dimitri asked.

“Eh, better not to ask, right? It’s perfectly safe— I showed the recipe to Manuela, and she approved it. I usually just add a couple drops to my tea before bed,” Claude said.

“I, ah, thank you,” Dimitri said, his voice shaking as the ghosts’ voices got louder, overwhelming his senses. He squeezed his eye shut and willed them to go away.

Claude cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, having fortunately caught on to Dimitri’s struggle. “Sorry, your Kingliness. I didn’t mean to cause you problems. I’ll leave now so you can get some rest. Let Teach know if you need me.”

And then he was gone, and the voices faded away slightly, giving Dimitri time to breathe and settle the uneasy feeling rising in his stomach. He took Claude’s medicine before bed and was relieved to find that it knocked him out instantly, guaranteeing him dreamless sleep through the night. As his fatigue drained away, the ghosts seemed to evaporate, too, until it was just Glenn, Father, and Stepmother floating around the foot of his bed and staring at him with disapproval.

The next step of Claude’s ingenious plan was to set up a “ghost watch” to help Dimitri fight his ghosts off. A team of volunteers would take turns sitting next to Dimitri’s bed during his waking hours. Dimitri’s sleep schedule had stabilized since using Claude’s mystery tonic, so his ghost watch could take a regular schedule. Dimitri was supposed to tell his appointed ghost watch when his ghosts started speaking so that they could join the conversation and help quell the voices. Dimitri was skeptical about the approach, but he was hardly in a position to reject the offer for help.

The first person to take a shift was Dorothea. Dimitri had never been particularly close to her during his academy days, but he had once regarded her as a classmate and acquaintance. He was somewhat surprised to see her among Claude’s army, given her friendship with Edelgard, but then again, his friends were also standing by Professor Byleth’s side instead of his own. It didn’t take long for his ghosts to rise up.

“What are they saying?” Dorothea asked, and Dimitri had to focus to hear her over his stepmother’s yelling.

“You’re wasting time here. You can easily overpower this frail woman. Take her down, and then—”

Dimitri closed his eye and leaned back against the headboard of the bed as his stepmother continued to prattle. “I’m sorry, Dorothea, but I fear this is hopeless. I cannot possibly relay to you every single word that my stepmother is saying.”

“—disappointed in you, Dimitri. You always let us down. Don’t you want your family to rest?” his stepmother said sharply, and Dimitri flinched. He was vaguely aware of Dorothea saying something, but her words didn’t come in to focus until she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Hey. Dimitri. Focus on me. I’ve got to be less of an eyesore than your parents, right?” Dorothea said. Dimitri opened his eye to look at her and saw pure, unconcealed worry on her face. Strange, considering they had never been particularly close, but that was one of the reasons that she was sitting here right now, trying to talk to his ghosts.

Dimitri let out a breath. “Sorry. My stepmother is saying that I am a disappointment.”

“What, for letting your injuries recover? I would think your stepmother would be more concerned about letting you heal up before sending you back out into battle,” Dorothea said with a scoff.

“Ignore her. You can work through these injuries. You always have,” Stepmother said, walking directly up to Dorothea. “This peasant bitch knows nothing.”

“...Based on your expression, I’m going to guess that she wasn’t too happy with my response,” Dorothea said, a lopsided grin on her face.

Dimitri shook his head. “She was not.”

“Well, someone who really cared about you wouldn’t push you to do things until you’ve healed. You’re not a disappointment for taking the time you need to recover. In fact, your mom should be proud of you for taking care of yourself,” Dorothea said with a frown.

“I don’t need to take care of myself. I only need to do what will bring them rest,” Dimitri said automatically, repeating words he had heard many times from his stepmother’s ghost.

Dorothea laughed without humor. “That’s nonsense. How are you supposed to bring them rest if you’re dead?”

“It would be better to die trying than to waste time here,” his stepmother spat, her face now inches from Dorothea’s.

“My stepmother says it would be better to die trying,” Dimitri repeated evenly, his voice only wavering once he saw Dorothea’s bewildered expression. “What?”

“Do  _ you _ believe that? That you would do more good if you were dead?” Dorothea asked earnestly. Her concerned gaze pierced Dimitri’s heart, and he fell silent. “Dimitri.” Dorothea gripped his arm tightly. “You didn’t see what it was like, when we all thought you were dead, but it was  _ devastating _ . Forget the fact that you are a king, or a leader, and have people depending on you. Your  _ friends _ depend on you. They—we—all want you to be alive. You have a debt to the dead? Well, you also have one to the living. Does your stepmother have anything to say to that?”

“I…” Dimitri’s eye widened as he realized that for the first time in a  _ very _ long time, the room was silent. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Dorothea said firmly, crossing her arms. “By the way, I meant what I said. You should be focusing on recovering. You can worry about what comes next later.”

Dimitri tried to stop himself from asking the question on the tip of his tongue and failed miserably. “Why are you helping me?”

Dorothea frowned. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re a friend, or close enough to it.”

_ A friend _ . Dimitri let that information sink in, tried to remember what it meant to be friends with someone else. “I… see. Well, thank you.”

“No problem. Claude only has me here twice a week, but you can feel free to call on me more often if you want. It’s nice to have a break from war,” Dorothea said with a genuine smile, and Dimitri didn’t know why, but he felt tears slipping down his cheeks.

~*~

Next on ghost watch was Ferdinand von Aegir, yet another surprise for Dimitri. Like Dorothea, Ferdinand had never spent much time with Dimitri in their academy days. Dimitri would make small talk with him at the stables or occasionally spar with him in the mornings, but he hadn’t thought the nobleman would care enough to waste time sitting at Dimitri’s bedside and making idle chatter. Dimitri quickly learned that idle chatter was one of Ferdinand’s strengths.

“Not to worry, Your High—Dimitri. I will fight off any ghost that dare come near, or my name isn’t Ferdinand von Aegir!” Ferdinand declared happily once Dimitri was awake enough to register words.

“Ah, thank you. I appreciate your help,” Dimitri said, disarmed by Ferdinand’s sheer enthusiasm.

Ferdinand chuckled heartily. “No need to look so surprised. When Claude proposed the idea at our weekly war council, Hilda immediately suggested me for the role, and I could not refuse!”

Ah, so he had fallen prey to Hilda’s tricks. That made more sense. But more importantly— “Claude proposed the idea during  _ war council _ ?”

“Yes, or at least, during the smaller war council. It was just us former classmates of yours and some of the Knights of Seiros. Nothing to worry about! We have been firmly instructed not to discuss your mental health with anyone else,” Ferdinand assured him. Dimitri was simultaneously relieved and troubled. It felt… odd to have so many people who were aware of his problems and were trying to help him.

Perhaps Dimitri could get more information out of Ferdinand; Dorothea had been quite close-lipped, but Ferdinand was sharing information much more liberally. “What about Ingrid, or Dedue? Did they not volunteer?”

“Of course they did, but Professor Byleth did not let them join. Nobody who knew any of your ghosts personally was allowed to volunteer,” Ferdinand said. 

Dimitri opened his mouth to ask another question, and that was when his father decided to intervene. His ghosts had been at the corners of his vision the whole time, of course, but now, he was awake enough for them to start talking to him.

“Get up, Dimitri.” Unlike his stepmother’s shrill voice, his father’s was gentle but firm. “You have spent long enough in the company of these fools. Kill Edelgard. It is your duty, as king.”

“Father, I—” Dimitri started responding to his father instinctively, only stopping when Ferdinand gave him an expectant look.

“So, your father is speaking to you? Tell me what he says, so I may vanquish all the doubt in your mind,” Ferdinand said confidently.

“He, ah, said that it is my duty to kill Edelgard,” Dimitri paraphrased, looking away from his father’s disappointed gaze.

“Ha! That is foolish. It is our shared duty, as an army, to oppose Edelgard’s tyranny and end this war. It is not your duty to kill her alone,” Ferdinand said.

“You misunderstand. Edelgard was there when my parents and Glenn were killed. I have to avenge them, as the only survivor. It’s my duty—”

“—your duty to avenge the fallen?” Ferdinand stepped in, stroking his chin. “I would think that as the survivor, your duty would be to live the best life you could, to make up for the lives that were lost.”

“As the king, it is my duty to avenge the fallen, to protect my people,” Dimitri and his father said almost in sync. He’d heard these words repeated enough to know them by heart.

“It is your duty to protect the living, not avenge the dead. There are people suffering out there due to Edelgard’s war, and killing her might end it, but until then, as nobles, we must hold our heads up high and use our power to help those in need,” Ferdinand said, a faraway look in his eyes. If Dimitri had been in a better state of mind, he might have wondered what Ferdinand had experienced in these five years of war.

“Before you can be a king for your people, you must drive off the person who took everything from you,” Father said, his voice low and dangerously sharp.

Dimitri found himself shaking his head. “There have been… so many who have suffered… You are right, Ferdinand. I have been so blind to my own responsibilities.”

Ferdinand clapped a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. “No need to worry! Gilbert’s armies are headed north as we speak to free the Kingdom.”

Dimitri’s eye widened. Gilbert had amassed a considerable number of former Kingdom soldiers, but even then… “It won’t be enough. There’s no way—”

“They are only serving as a distraction to prevent Cornelia’s troops from coming to Edelgard’s aid. Claude expects us to be at Enbarr in a mere three months’ time, if all goes according to plan,” Ferdinand said.

_ If all goes according to plan _ . Dimitri wondered if he’d recover quickly enough to join them.

~*~

If Dorothea and Ferdinand had been surprising members of Dimitri’s ghost patrol, then Linhardt was a total shock— Linhardt, who had been deemed too lazy to be a part of Dimitri’s regular rotation of medical staff. And yet, when Ferdinand’s two days on duty had passed, it was the sleepy green-haired noble who trudged in and sat in the empty chair next to Dimitri’s bed, a book in hand.

“Linhardt. Thank you for—”

“I know, this sort of thing is not how I like to spend my time, but Claude insisted, and it can be a real bother to get Claude to stop harassing me,” Linhardt said dismissively, yawning. “Now, then, let’s make this fast so I can go back to this book. What do your foolish ghosts have to say?”

Dimitri looked up at Glenn, who had been silent for the whole week so far. Even as Dorothea and his stepmother had gotten in verbal sparring matches, or as Ferdinand had shot down his father’s requests, Glenn had remained silent from his perch at the foot of the bed, his piercing, empty gaze directed at Dimitri.

“How does it feel to be so weak, Dimitri? You’re given one chance to escape your duty to the dead, and you take it. You’re  _ pathetic _ ,” Glenn sneered.

“Glenn is saying that I am… pathetic,” Dimitri supplied, biting his lip.

“Oh, well, that might not be wrong. You do look kind of pathetic with that nervous look on your face,” Linhard said bluntly. Either he was oblivious to the sharpness of his words, or he didn’t care. “But you’re hardly pathetic for failing to kill Edelgard. We were barely able to hold our own against her and you in tandem.”

“Thank you, I think?” Dimitri said, confused.

Glenn scoffed. “The foolish noble boy is right about Edelgard’s strength. But you should be strong enough to kill her, and you’re not. You’re a failure.”

“My semblance is all about strength, and yet…” Dimitri sighed. “I am still so weak.”

“I would say that you are no weaker than the rest of us. You’ve made it this far in the war, haven’t you?” Linhardt pointed out. “Besides, it takes far more strength to do nothing then to take action. Everyone is always running around doing things when sometimes it would be best to just sit back and… take a nap.” Linhardt yawned again and rubbed his eyes. “Speaking of naps, it’s about time for mine. Are we done here?”

Dimitri furrowed his eyebrows. Linhardt’s logic was hard to follow, but… maybe he had a point. Dimitri’s mind wandered to Claude, to the way he always seemed like he was waiting for the right moment to strike. Perhaps there was merit to resting and waiting for his chance. Dimitri glanced over at Glenn, expecting some sort of rebuttal, and found that he had disappeared entirely. “He’s gone,” Dimitri thought aloud.

“Of course he is. Hallucinations never last long in the face of logic. If you need me, I’ll be right here.” And with that, Linhardt placed his book on the bedside table, rested his head on the book, and fell asleep, leaving Dimitri with more questions than answers.

~*~

Alois was the next person in the rotation. Dimitri half expected the man to taunt his ghosts with bad jokes, but Alois was shockingly solemn as he sat down next to Dimitri’s bed. His eyes darted nervously around the room, and his mustache quivered. Finally he said, “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I’m the best person for this job.”

Well, this was off to an interesting start. “What do you mean?”

“I had to jump in when Claude mentioned that you need help, but I, ah… I’m not too terribly fond of ghosts, I must admit,” Alois said, his voice trembling slightly. “But! I will try to do my best, because you need support, and I want to be there for you. After all, you’re one of the few people who’s ever laughed at my jokes!” he added with renewed confidence.

Dimitri would have smiled if he remembered what that felt like. Instead, he just nodded stiffly. “Thank you, Alois. I appreciate it.”

“So. What are these, er, ghosts that you’re seeing?” Alois asked, and the man looked so pitifully scared that Dimitri almost felt the need to comfort the man. Of course, all of Dimitri’s upbringing on how to be polite had fled him, so he had nothing to say. Instead, he let the silence settle, returning his focus to the ghosts of the dead that floated at the edges of his vision. Dorothea, Ferdinand, and Linhardt had silenced the ghosts of his parents and Glenn over the course of the last week, although they still appeared before him occasionally. Today, however, he was seeing something different but not unknown, something familiar and gut-wrenching.

“I see the ghosts of the people I have killed. The dead at Duscur. The Imperial soldiers I’ve slaughtered. They… they taunt me.” Dimitri’s voice shook despite himself, and he took a moment to steady it before continuing. “They ask me if it was worth it. If I have used their deaths to serve a worthy cause.”

“Oh, my dear boy,” Alois said with a heavy sigh, giving Dimitri a look of pity. “I may not see the dead, or hear them, but I feel them every day, in here.” He moved his hand over his heart. “I can’t get away from thinking about the people I’ve killed. That’s part of the reason I’m so afraid of ghosts. I know that one day, their spite and resentment will rain down on me, and they will get their revenge. Some days, it’s too much for me, and I wonder why I’m even a knight.”

“What do you do on those days?” Dimitri asked.

“I remind myself that I didn’t kill those people needlessly. I wasn’t taking their lives for fun. They might resent me for it later, but I had a duty to protect people and carry out my missions as a Knight of Seiros. And… well, I do not want them to have died in vain.” Alois looked up, determination twinkling in his eyes. “I owe it to the dead and to the living to keep performing my duties to the best of my ability, ghosts be damned.”

A simple answer, and one befitting of Alois. Dimitri let out a shaky breath. “I… I see,” he said quietly. The ghosts still danced in the shadows of the room, hissing in anger. “And… and what should I do, if their deaths  _ were _ in vain? If I killed them, and it was wrong?”

“There’s no just thing as a just death,” Alois said gravely, emphatically. “I know that’s not a very knight-like thing to say, but it’s what I believe. All deaths on the battlefield are wrong. It’s up to us to carry the burden of those deaths and try and make sense of them.” Alois chuckled without humor. “It’s kind of unfair, isn’t it?”

Dimitri nodded. “It is.”

“All we can do is keep on moving forward and do what we think is best. It’s a heavy burden to carry, and you shouldn’t carry it alone. After all, you’ve got your own dreams and aspirations to attend to,” Alois said with a wink.

Dimitri felt his throat choking up with tears inexplicably. His own dreams? He wondered when the last time he dared to dream for himself was. Before the Tragedy, maybe?

Alois grinned. “Besides, you know what they say… listening to the whims of ghosts is a  _ dead _ end.”

Dimitri groaned. Apparently, he hadn’t forgotten how to feel disgruntled.

~*~

Dimitri was terrible at tracking time, especially given how much time he’d spent asleep, recovering from his wounds and his self-neglect. After maybe two weeks of ghost watch— two weeks of Dorothea’s fierce rebuttals, Ferdinand’s cherry optimism, Linhardt’s blunt opinions, and Alois’ terrible jokes— Dimitri woke up one day to complete and utter silence, deafening and pervasive and  _ eerie _ . Dimitri could not remember the last time he had heard nothing. It was unsettling.

His shock must have been obvious on his face, because when Marianne walked in to check on him, she stopped suddenly and asked, “Is everything all right, Dimitri? You look very confused.”

“I… yes. Everything is fine. I just… The ghosts are gone,” Dimitri said slowly, the whole time looking around the room wildly for any sign of Glenn, or Stepmother, or Father. He saw nothing— no wisps of death behind the foot of the bed, no hidden ghosts peeking over the top of the chair. He was… alone.

“That’s wonderful,” Marianne said, and she smiled— and wow, Dimitri had never seen her smile before. What had he done to warrant such emotion from her, from someone who ought not to care for his wellbeing so much?  _ Friends _ . Dorothea’s voice echoed in his head. Ah, yes. That was what this was.

“Thank you, Marianne,” he said, hoping that his eyes showed his gratitude. “I am… unsure how to handle this, truthfully. I have been listening to them for so long, I—”

“—I know what you mean,” Marianne said softly, sitting in the chair next to the bed and putting a gentle hand on his. “You’ve spent so long believing that you deserve nothing and listening to the twisted voices of your mind. But freedom… it feels very good. It’s so wonderful to be able to do what you want without worrying that you might hurt someone or bring them misfortune.”

“But what if I  _ do _ ?” Dimitri whispered. The ghosts were gone, but the memory of them was not— of their whispers that he was a monster, a beast, unfit for standing among humans.

“You won’t. Everyone here is choosing to help you because we want to. Because we  _ want _ to be with you.” Marianne squeezed his hand. “The only one who believes what your ghosts have been telling you is you.”

“And Felix,” Dimitri pointed out.

“He will come around, but only after you have convinced yourself that you are not a beast,” Marianne said. “That’s what Hilda says, anyway.”

Dimitri didn’t know if Hilda was right, but for the first time in a long time, he dared to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to put Hilda on ghost watch, but I couldn’t work it in. Luckily, she’s been plenty busy manhandling others in the background!
> 
> Also, I want to make it clear that Dimitri’s ghosts are not GONE. But Dimitri is getting back to the point where he can go a day without seeing them, and that was more than he could say before. Recovery is hard and slow (@INTSYS)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Step 3: Take a Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri gets some much-needed alone time with Dedue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had grand plans for what this chapter was supposed to be, and then it occurred to me that I had forgotten to handle this very crucial plot point. Thanks to that realization and my insomnia, you get this chapter a whole two weeks ahead of schedule! I have no idea when the next chapter will be up, but I’ll do my best.

**Harpstring Moon, Day 20**

“No pain when you move your arm?” Manuela asked, examining the scar cutting across Dimitri’s shoulder blade.

Dimitri raised his elbow experimentally. “No pain.”

“And the ghosts?”

Dimitri closed his eye. He could still see them, still hear them, but they were less… dominating, less demanding. It was background noise instead of the main event, and he could ignore it easier. “They’re manageable,” Dimitri answered, letting out a short breath as he opened his eye again.

“Good,” Manuela said with a nod. “Meditating twice a day?”

“Yes, as you suggested. And I have started a journal, as well,” Dimitri said, gesturing to the side table where a small bound book lay.

“Well, then. I think that’s everything. You’re free to leave,” Manuela said.

Dimitri pulled his thin cloth shirt back on, wondering immediately where Mercedes had taken his armor. His armor and cloak had been gone when he’d first woken up in the infirmary, replaced by thin white clothes and thick white bandages. He’d need to find Dedue and see if he had any of Dimitri’s spare clothes, although… in hindsight, Dimitri wasn’t sure that he even  _ owned _ any spares.

“Dimitri, a moment, please?” Mercedes was waiting at the entrance to the infirmary. Dimitri finished putting on his shoes, which had mysteriously been cleaned and left by his bed, and walked over to her slowly, his first steps quite wobbly. He’d paced around the infirmary from time to time, but he was still getting used to being on his feet again after being on bedrest for so long.

“Mercedes. Do you happen to know where my armor and clothes are?” Dimitri asked.

“Your armor has been polished and is in your old dorm room. Your clothes, however, were extremely filthy, so I took the liberty of sewing you some new ones. Those are in your room, as well,” Mercedes answered matter-of-factly. Dimitri didn’t know what to say. “After I worked so hard on your clothes, it would be so unkind of you to wear them while you’re still filthy, don’t you think? In fact, I know for a fact that the bath house is empty right now!” Mercedes gave Dimitri a smile as sweet as sugar, despite the steel of her voice. Dimitri was no fool.

“I, ah, I will take a bath right now, then,” Dimitri stuttered.

Mercedes clapped her hands together happily. “Wonderful! Dedue is already waiting for you at the bath house.”

It was nighttime when Dimitri walked out of the infirmary— for the first time in three weeks, according to Manuela— and the monastery was surprisingly abuzz with activity. The army  _ was _ set to march out to Fort Merceus in just a couple days, so people were rushing about with weapons, armor, and rations in their arms to load up wagons. Dimitri walked quickly with his head down, doing his best to ignore the way that people stared at him or moved out of his way. Strangely enough, none of his friends were anywhere to be found.

Dedue was standing outside the bath house, and his expression softened when he saw Dimitri. “Your Highness. It is good to see you again.”

“Dedue, I—” Dimitri had so much to say to Dedue, but upon seeing him again, all of those thoughts fled him. There were no words to describe his gratitude to the friend who had always stayed by his side, who had followed him even as he’d been captured by Claude’s army.

Luckily, Dedue seemed to understand from just a simple glance, and he nodded. “We can talk while you bathe, if that is amenable to you.”

“Of course.” Dimitri walked into the bath house and, as Mercedes had promised, it was empty. Dimitri wasn’t sure when he had last taken a bath. It just hadn’t seemed important to him. Still, someone had scrubbed the dirt and grime away from his wounds and peeled off his armor and clothing. He owed them immensely, as he quickly figured out; scrubbing away five years’ worth of sweat, blood, and tears was not an easy feat. Dedue, as always, helped Dimitri with strong hands and a firm smile.

And Dimitri hadn’t even thought about Dedue  _ once _ during his time in the infirmary. What a terrible friend he was.

“Your Highness, may I speak freely?” Dedue said finally, after a few minutes of painfully slow progress at scrubbing Dimitri’s back.

“Of course,” Dimitri answered. Dedue deserved that, and so much more.

“I… I must apologize to you, Your Highness. I was so concerned with serving you that I never considered whether or not what you wanted was what was best for you. I blindly followed your orders, never once pushing back even as I saw that you had fallen into despair.” Dimitri violently bit his tongue to prevent himself from interrupting Dedue. “I want to support you as you work to recover. It is my greatest wish to see you happy again, Your Highness. Even though I do not deserve it, I must ask you for your forgiveness. Please, let me stand by your side.” 

Tears began to fall down Dimitri’s face, mixing with the filthy bath water. “Dedue. I have nothing to forgive you for because you did nothing wrong,” Dimitri whispered, voice trembling. “If you had pushed back against me, I don’t know what I would have done. I would have felt like I had lost the only friend I had left. You have always been my source of strength, Dedue, and I am the one who has failed you. I should be asking you for forgiveness for taking so long to confront my demons.”

“I forgive you, Your Highness.” Dedue finished scrubbing Dimitri’s back and moved on to his shoulders. “Are you all right?”

Dimitri sniffed back tears. “Yes. It… it feels good to cry again.”

“Good,” Dedue said softly.

“Dedue… have you cried? Since that day?”

Dedue nodded. “I have, but only recently. I was talking to Ashe about it, actually. I…” Dedue hesitated. “I wish to tell you about it, truthfully, but perhaps it should wait for another time.”

“No, Dedue, please. I want to know.”

“Very well.” Dedue sat down on the edge of the bath, his hands on his thighs. Dimitri stopped scrubbing so he could listen. “While I was recovering from my wounds, I spent a lot of time among my people, and I had a lot of time to think. I will always be there to serve you, Your Highness, but I…” Dedue paused, fidgeting with his hands. “I have tried so hard not to hate the Kingdom for what happened to my home, but I am only human. I hate the people who massacred my family. I hate the system that allowed my home to burn to the ground. And I cannot serve the Kingdom any longer. I should not be serving the people who brought my home to ruin. I should be serving my kin, helping them find solace and strength in each other and helping them rebuild all that was lost.” This was the most passionate Dimitri had ever seen Dedue, and it was perhaps the first and only time Dedue had let his guard down. He looked so fired up, and yet he was at peace.

“You’ve found your purpose,” Dimitri said almost mournfully, giving Dedue a sad smile— not sad because Dedue was going to leave him, but sad because he still didn’t have a purpose of his own. What was it like to be driven by nothing but your own desires? Dimitri didn’t know. “I’m happy for you, Dedue. I will do everything I can to support you.”

Dedue smiled, not the small smile he always gave, but the rare, big one that was reserved for special occasions. “Thank you for understanding. I— I am grateful for your support.”

“You have saved me so many times—in Duscur, when I was able to protect you, and five years back, when I was about to be executed. You have always shown me that there is hope. If you were ever in any debt to me, it has been paid ten thousand times over,” Dimitri said, grasping Dedue by the shoulders. “But I… I don’t know that I can ever repay you for what you have done for me.”

“You have done more than enough for me,” Dedue insisted.

“Then consider both our debts paid,” Dimitri said. “Let’s start off with a clean slate, not as prince and vassal, but as friends.”

“As friends,” Dedue echoed, a frown on his face. “But you are the king. How can I—”

“Right now, I am no king. There is no kingdom for me to lead. I am just… Dimitri.” Dimitri took Dedue’s hands in his and squeezed. “Please. Grant me this one wish, and you will be helping me immensely.”

Dedue looked in to Dimitri’s tear-filled eye and finally nodded. “All right… Dimitri.”

Dimitri thought that maybe, although he couldn’t remember for sure, this was what happiness felt like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri: I’m going to go train now  
> Mercedes: no :) you are not :)  
> Dimitri: Just kidding! I’m going to do everything you tell me to!


	4. Step 4: Try to Join the Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri, for whatever foolish reason, decides that he's fit to join Claude's army. He's... really not, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys! School started last week, and I've been trying to pump out a fic for a fic/art exchange I'm a part of (so keep your eyes peeled for that). But I do have a nice surprise for you: two chapters for the price of one! I initially intended this to be one chapter, but I think it works better thematically to be split up. Enjoy!

**Harpstring Moon, Day 21**

It took a couple of hours for Dimitri to finish his bath, and the water was murky by the end. In the meantime, Dedue caught Dimitri up on the state of affairs: although the pair of them should have been prisoners of war, Claude had instead welcomed them both into the army. Ashe had been taking meticulous notes at each war council for Dimitri to read upon his return, and as Dedue handed the thick stack to Dimitri, he felt overcome by emotion. Ashe had thought of him even after he’d tried to kill the boy. Dimitri didn’t deserve such kindness.

Once he was done bathing, Dedue walked him back to his room, where he promptly fell asleep. It felt good to be clean and free and in his own bed, and he slept soundly through the night. Still, he couldn’t sleep forever, not if he wanted to repay his debts. While he was hardly what someone might call mentally stable, he was physically healed, and with some training, he could be useful on the battlefield. However, his body was out of shape after so much rest without activity. Dimitri didn’t know when the army was marching out for their next big battle, but he wanted to be ready if he could.

So of course, Dimitri’s first destination that morning was the training grounds. Professor Byleth must have heard him leave his room because they followed after him, their blank stare boring holes into the back of Dimitri’s head. Dimitri would have asked if they were following to help or to supervise, but he didn’t want to prematurely end his chance to train by prompting the professor to send him back to his room. Instead, he walked in silence. The monastery was still mostly silent at this hour, and Dimitri relished the quiet morning air.

Dimitri expected to find Felix at the training grounds, or maybe even Ingrid. What he  _ didn’t _ expect was to find Sylvain of all people, twirling a lance around with precision. He grinned as he spotted Dimitri and Byleth entering the hall. “Hey, Dimitri!” Sylvain called out, smiling.

“Sylvain,” Byleth said, stone cold.

“Heya, Professor! It’s a surprise to see you here,” Sylvain said with a wink. Dimitri could’ve sworn he saw the professor grimace, but it was gone before he could be sure.

“You here to do a bit of training?” Sylvain asked.

It took Dimitri’s mind a moment to register that he was speaking to one of his friends, to someone who had a certain expectation for who he was supposed to be and how he was supposed to act, and then the panic kicked in.

“This is a waste of time,” he heard Glenn hiss. “They will never take you back after seeing what you’ve become.”

“You’re unfitting to be a Blaiddyd,” his father growled. “You are hardly a noble anymore.”

“You’re letting us down by staying here,” his stepmother drawled, disappointment etched in her face.

“Dimitri.” Byleth put a firm hand on his shoulder, and Dimitri let out a shaky breath as he remembered why he was here. He wanted to get better. He wanted to remember what it felt like to be happy and free. He wasn’t going to let his ghosts stop him again, even if— No, no, they were wrong. Dimitri forced himself to recall Dorothea’s insistence, and Ferdinand’s confidence, and Linhardt’s bluntness, and Alois’ kindness. They were all sure that his ghosts were wrong. Even if Dimitri didn’t believe it now, he had to believe in his... his friends. 

“Hello, Sylvain,” Dimitri said, his voice trembling slightly. “I came to do a bit of light training and reacquaint myself with the rigor of combat.”

“Well, we can train together, then,” Sylvain said, and he tossed a training lance in Dimitri’s direction. Dimitri fumbled, barely catching it in his hands. Byleth sighed disapprovingly but sat down in the grass, arms crossed. They were giving him the space to do this right. Dimitri hoped he didn’t mess up.

“Sylvain, before we start, I, ah—”

Sylvain swung his lance at Dimitri slowly, and Dimitri blocked it with ease. “Oh, c’mon, Dimitri, you always  _ were _ too serious. Loosen up a bit, or you won’t be able to keep your grip. Let’s just ease you back in, okay?”

Dimitri nodded, his hands shaking as he pushed Sylvain’s lance away. “...Thank you.”

They trained mostly in silence after that, with the occasional compliment from Sylvain or apology from Dimitri. Sylvain was surprisingly gentle and patient, walking Dimitri slowly through some simple moves before falling naturally into a sparring match.

Dimitri hadn’t fought in so long, and his muscles rejoiced at finally getting a chance to work in the ways they were used to. Holding the wooden lance in his hands, instinct overtook him, and he parried Sylvain’s first swing, falling into muscle memory. Block, stab, duck, stab— before Dimitri could stop himself, he swept his lance downwards, knocking Sylvain on to his back, and then thrust his lance at Sylvain’s throat with lethal force—

Dimitri blinked, and the lance flew out of his hands, knocked back by a strong sword strike. Byleth stood there, Sword of the Creator extended, expression blank. Dimitri looked at Sylvain. His eyes were wide with fear. 

“You’re a beast. A boar. You always will be,” Glenn whispered, his face inches from Dimitri’s ear.

Dimitri turned the other way and bolted out of the training hall, his hands still trembling. He had almost killed his best friend on accident— or, no, the lance was wood, it wouldn’t have killed him, maybe, but he hadn’t even thought twice about it. He was irredeemable, a boar, and nothing would fix it. Professor Manuela, Professor Byleth, everyone who was working so hard to help him— it was all a wasted effort. Dimitri would never change. He’d been a beast for too long.

As soon as he reached his room, he leapt onto his bed face first. He smushed his face into the pillow and let his guilty tears run free, his body wracking with loud sobs. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Sylvain’s haunted expression gazing back at him. Sylvain had been afraid of him. Of the boar. Of  _ Dimitri _ .

A knock on the door startled Dimitri into sitting up, and only then did he remember that he hadn’t bolted the door shut. Professor Byleth opened the door slowly, expressionless as always, and sat down on the foot of the bed, hands folded.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I— I don’t know what happened, I just— I—”

“Sylvain has already forgiven you,” Byleth interjected bluntly.

“He… he what?” Dimitri blinked, confused.

“It’s Sylvain’s fault for sparring with you before you had time to readjust,” Byleth said, their lips pursing in disapproval. Dimitri couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“No, no, Professor, it’s my fault for continuing to spar. I should never have let myself hold a weapon near a friend, not after—” Dimitri’s voice caught in his throat as he remembered Gronder Field. Tears formed in his eyes once more. “I can’t be trusted with a weapon, Professor. That is all there is to it.”

“Dimitri.” Byleth gripped his shoulders firmly, and Dimitri’s tears died in his throat. “I am an experienced mercenary. I have fought many people in my life, some with good intentions, some less so. I know an evil sword when I see one. You struck without malice or intention. It was pure instinct, was it not?”

“I..”

“And you feel bad about it?” Byleth continued, relentless as ever. Dimitri could only nod. “You are not the bad person you think you are, Dimitri. Sylvain and I both know this.”

Dimitri swallowed his guilt and nodded again. “I… Thank you.”

“Still, it may not be a bad idea to take it slowly in the training hall,” Byleth said, not as a question but as a command. Dimitri felt like a student again, being scolded for breaking the rules.

“I understand, Professor,” he said quietly.

“Good.” Byleth stood up. “Sylvain would like to talk to you, when you are ready. If you have trouble finding him, you can ask me for help.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri said again, unable to think of what else to say. Byleth left the room, shutting the door behind them gently, and Dimitri finally relaxed, sagging back against the headboard. He stared at the ceiling dully, suddenly lacking the energy to move or speak or do anything but breathe and stare off into space. He was startled out of his reverie by a knock on his door.

“Dimitri, it’s Manuela, I’m coming in,” Manuela said before opening his door and closing it behind her gently. “I thought perhaps we could talk. Byleth told me what happened.”

“I tried to kill Sylvain,” Dimitri said bluntly.

“Yes, well, it’s not your fault that your instincts built on the battlefield are so sharp. Sylvain doesn’t hold it against you at all,” Manuela said, sitting down in the chair next to Dimitri’s bed. “It’s normal to feel guilty, but at some point, you will have to move on.”

Dimitri almost laughed. If it was so easy for him to move on from guilt, he probably wouldn’t even be here in this bed right now, and he’d probably have both eyes, too.

“Are you worried about being around your friends again?” Manuela asked. “Dedue said you were fine around him, but I know it can be daunting to interact with friends after not seeing them for so long.”

Dimitri thought about the training hall, and how he had felt so… lost, unsure of how to behave around Sylvain. “I wish to act the way my friends expect me to, but I don’t know what that is anymore,” he answered truthfully.

“Acting according to someone else’s expectations is difficult and exhausting,” Manuela said gently, and Dimitri nodded again. “And besides, this is your chance to start fresh, without any expectations. How about you just do what makes sense according to your feelings?”

“My… feelings…” Dimitri closed his eye. Did he have any feelings aside from his desire for revenge and his guilt for his many failures? When was the last time he had felt… anything?

“You may not feel anything right now, but that will change, slowly. Until then, you can try and act out how you think you should be feeling, so other people know you’re trying to change,” Manuela suggested.

Dimitri chuckled wryly. “I’ve been doing that for four years, Professor, and look where that got me.”

“Stop acting out how you think Dimitri, Prince of Faerghus, should feel and start acting out how Dimitri, the human being and friend, should feel. I think it’ll work out better for you,” Manuela said, a twinkle in her eye.

Dimitri paused to consider this. He’d always tried to uphold his parents’ teachings about how he should behave, even after the Tragedy, but now that he thought about it… that was what Felix hated so much about him, right? That it was all a facade? Acting like himself— instead of like a noble, or a prince— might help him repair his friendship with Felix, at the least.

“I… I’ll give it a try, Professor,” Dimitri said finally, nodding. “Good luck in the upcoming battle.”

Manuela smiled. “That’s sweet of you to say, Dimitri. I’m afraid the monastery will be quite empty in the next week or two, but Dedue will be here to help you, so please let him.”

“I will,” Dimitri promised, as if he had any say in the matter. Dedue would help him no matter what. That was just who he was— yet another friend Dimitri did not deserve. “I… suppose I will talk to Sylvain now.”

“Good,” Manuela said, and stood up. “I have a lot of preparations to make for tomorrow, but I’ll be in my office if you need me. Don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

Manuela left after that, and Dimitri had the full intention of talking to Sylvain. But he was tired, so maybe he could rest for a little longer before going out...

Dimitri only realized that time had passed when the light from his window began to dim, signalling the setting of the sun. Dimitri hadn’t eaten anything all day. He needed to fix that.

As Dimitri sat up, Stepmother, Father, and Glenn appeared in his line of sight and stood around him, their faces ranging from disapproval to anger.

“There’s no way that the Professor was telling the truth. Sylvain couldn’t possibly forgive you,” Patricia said sharply.

Dimitri bit his lip. He wanted to believe the professor, truly, but he still couldn’t understand how they had just… forgiven him, just like that, for a mistake that was entirely his fault.

“They will abandon you. It is better that you leave now, before they have the chance,” Glenn said.

And Glenn was always right, except… Dimitri furrowed his eyebrows and tried to remember what it was that Linhardt had said. “It… it takes more strength to stay here than it does to leave. It is my penance,” Dimitri said finally, opening his eyes. He wiped the last of his tears away with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. He’d spent enough time wallowing in self-pity. If he wanted to get better— if he wanted to be useful— it was time to talk to Sylvain.


	5. Step 4.5: Talk to Friends For the First Time in Five Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri talks to Sylvain for the first time in five years. Well, almost the first time.

Dimitri stood nervously in front of Sylvain’s door. He swallowed hard and then let out a deep breath and knocked on the door lightly.

Sylvain answered the door on his own time, as was characteristic of him. “Oh, Dimitri.” Sylvain’s face dimmed for a moment, but his plastic smile was back quickly enough. Funny how Dimitri could see how fake it was now that he’d abandoned his own facade. Sylvain started to speak, then stopped, squinting. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“I, ah, no?” Dimitri said, caught off guard by the question.

“Aha! Thought so,” Sylvain said, grinning as he stepped out of his room, swung the door shut, and took Dimitri by the hand. “Come on, we’re going to the dining hall before they close up for the night.”

Dimitri didn’t resist. He probably ought to eat something, despite not feeling hungry at all.

Sylvain made all sorts of small talk without any help from Dimitri as they walked to the dining hall. Thankfully, he also took the liberty of grabbing two plates of rations so Dimitri wouldn’t have to decide which tasteless entree to eat.

“Mind taking a little journey with me?” Sylvain asked.

Dimitri shrugged. He probably owed it to Sylvain to do as much.

“Great. No point eating indoors when it’s so nice outside, you know?” Sylvain said, leading Dimitri out of the dining hall towards the exit to Garreg Mach. “We won’t go far, don’t worry.”

“Let me at least hold the food,” Dimitri said, in no small part because Sylvain was armed, and Dimitri was not. If they did run in to trouble, Dimitri would be useless.

Sylvain led Dimitri out of the fortress walls and out into the nearby forest to a small clearing. There were two flat and long rocks in the middle that were the perfect height to serve as a table of sorts if they sat in the grass.

Sylvain snatched his plate from Dimitri and sat down with ease, eating without any hesitation. Slowly, Dimitri sat down and joined him.

“You looked like you could use some fresh air after being cooped up for weeks,” Sylvain explained through a mouthful of food. “Hope I’m not making more assumptions.”

Dimitri shook his head. The cool breeze cutting through the warm night air felt nice. “This is… good,” he said awkwardly, his words halting. “I… thank you.”

Sylvain furrowed his brow and stopped eating for a moment, suddenly becoming somber. “Dimitri, are you feeling guilty for what happened this morning?”

Dimitri said nothing.

Sylvain sighed. “You know that was my fault, right? For jumping the gun? Claude told me, Ingrid, and Felix to steer clear of you ‘till you’d had a chance to reacclimate, and I didn’t listen— to him, or to you. I should have seen that something was up when we sparred.”

Dimitri blinked. He wasn’t used to this— to remorse, and from Sylvain, to boot. “It’s, ah, it’s fine.”

“Oh, come on, Dimitri. Just take my apology, okay? I’m sorry. I fucked up. I still want to help you get back up to speed, so if you don’t mind, I still want to spar when you’re ready.” Sylvain’s usually playful expression was gone, his face dead serious. It was almost scary.

Dimitri nodded and attempted to mold his face into one of forgiveness. “I would appreciate the help.”

“Great.” Sylvain set his fork down and let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I, uh… I can’t deal with all this bottling it up inside nonsense anymore, okay? I’m tired of all the secrets and trying to do everything on your own. You, Felix, Ingrid, even me— we all do it, and it’s stupid. I didn’t even notice that you were suffering until it was too late.”

“It wasn’t your responsibility. You had other things to deal with—”

“We’ve all been dealing with the same feelings, Dimitri. We shouldn’t have done it alone,” Sylvain said harshly, his expression darkening for just a second before his regular smile returned. “Sorry. I… I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently. About where we went wrong.”

“Where  _ we _ went wrong?” Dimitri asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Yeah,  _ we _ . You might be the one who’s deeply depressed, haunted by ghosts, and, uh…” Sylvain faltered. “But the rest of us aren’t exactly thriving either. Felix is convinced he has to train every hour of the day, and he pushes everyone away. Ingrid only relies on herself and is chasing an ideal that doesn’t exist. And I… uh, well, I think we both know how I’ve been coping with it all.”

“Sylvain…” Dimitri often forgot how perceptive his friend could be when he wasn’t wasting his time chasing girls or slacking off. 

“We’ve spent the last nine years dealing with our shitty lives in our own shitty ways. Don’t you think it’s time we tried to deal with it together?” Sylvain flopped on to his back, turning his gaze skyward. “I don’t know if it would fix anything, but it’s always seemed to work for the Golden Deer— Claude and Hilda and all of the rest of them. When anyone has a problem, they take it straight to the professor and Claude and Hilda and Lorenz, and the four of them always put together the best team of people to take it on. It was the first thing I noticed when joining their class all those years ago, actually. Even in our academy days, Claude always had a plan, and he always relied on others to get it done. It was a little different for them than for us, since they didn’t all know each other at first and it took time to build all that trust, but now? That trust and friendship makes them unstoppable.”

Dimitri frowned. Relying on others was something he hadn’t done in a long time. It always seemed like his problems were not as important as other things going on, and even if they were, everyone had their own problems to deal with. Before Dimitri could even try to argue back, Sylvain cut him off.

“I know you and Felix and Ingrid all like to handle things yourselves, and I do it, too. But we’ve never really succeeded that way, have we?”

Dimitri thought about Felix pushing away everyone with sharp insults, and Ingrid clinging to knighthood, and him building a perfect mask to fool others. “No, I suppose we have not.”

“Just promise me this, Dimitri. Don’t worry too much about making us believe you’re doing fine. Just tell us the truth. We’re ready to hear it.” Sylvain smiled, and Dimitri realized that he hadn’t seen a smile that genuine from Sylvain… possibly ever.

“I… I will do my best,” Dimitri conceded. “But Felix—”

“—is an ass, yeah. I’m working on it.” Sylvain sighed. “Honestly, I wasn’t so sold on this whole therapy thing, but talking to Seteth has been really helpful.”

Dimitri tried to imagine a conversation between Sylvain and Seteth that didn’t involve Seteth reprimanding Sylvain harshly for his behavior around women. His imagination wasn’t good enough to think up a miracle, though, or he probably wouldn’t still be haunted by ghosts and tormented by the dead.

“What’s with that expression? C’mon, Dimitri, have some faith in me,” Sylvain whined. 

Dimitri hadn’t realized that his thoughts had bled on to his face. “Sorry. I, ah, wasn’t aware Seteth was offering therapy,” he said quickly, trying to backpedal.

“Well, he wasn’t at first, but Manuela has been swamped. After Claude made therapy mandatory for everyone—”

“After Claude did  _ what _ ?”

“Okay, he didn’t really make it  _ mandatory _ , but he offered it up as an option, and it turns out that a lot of people have stuff to work through thanks to the war, so Manuela has been busy,” Sylvain amended, rolling his eyes. “So Seteth has been trying to help her. Turns out the dude is pretty good at giving advice even if he  _ does _ think I’m trying to make a move on Flayn..”

“I… see.” Dimitri thought he should feel happy about this news, glad that Sylvain was finally taking his own life seriously for once. Instead, he felt nothing. “That is good to hear.”

Sylvain jumped to his feet suddenly. “Well, that’s probably enough of that. We’re marching out tomorrow, so you probably won’t see any of us for a few days.”

“I want to come with you,” Dimitri said before he could stop himself.

Sylvain shook his head. “Dimitri, you’re not ready to be back on the battlefield. Please. We all were so happy to hear that you were still alive and we want to keep it that way, okay?”

Dimitri swallowed his disappointment. “I… understand.”

Sylvain reached out a hand to Dimitri to pull him up. “Promise me, Dimitri. Promise that you won’t fight until we think you’re ready.”

“Don’t make a promise like that, you fool,” Stepmother said, but her voice was quieter, muted. Dimitri shook it aside, focusing on the intensity in Sylvain’s eyes, the likes of which Dimitri had not seen before. 

Dimitri took Sylvain’s hand firmly, allowing Sylvain to pull him to his feet. “I promise.”

~*~

Sylvain went off to the stables once they returned to the monastery, leaving Dimitri to return to his room alone. He was surprised to find Ingrid waiting outside his door. She wordlessly pulled him into a hug, then shoved a letter into his hands.

“Ingrid—”

“I don’t want to push you too hard, unlike  _ a certain someone _ , and there’s not much time before we leave tomorrow, so—” Ingrid gestured to the letter. “Whenever you have the energy.” There were tears in her eyes, to Dimitri’s shock. Ingrid wiped them away quickly with the palm of her hand. “Sorry, I— I’m really glad you’re okay. Alive. And, you know, we’re about to do something stupidly difficult at Fort Merceus, so there’s no guarantee— I mean, it’s war, and— so I just wanted to make sure, before we left that I got to see you. I even got Claude’s permission.”

“Ingrid, thank you,” Dimitri said, his voice shaking with… something, he didn’t know what, exactly. “I… I appreciate it.”

“Can I… give you another hug?” Ingrid asked.

Dimitri nodded. Ingrid was shorter than he was, and smaller, but her hug was strong and firm and kind and so  _ Ingrid _ . Dimitri awkwardly put his arms around her, too, careful not to squeeze her.

“Goddess, you’re so tall now. You were tall before, but…” Ingrid let go finally, stepping back. “When I come back, you’d better be eating better, got it?”

Dimitri hadn’t known he’d missed being chewed out by Ingrid until it happened. He couldn’t help but smile. “I will,” Dimitri said quietly. “Good luck. Take care of Sylvain and Felix, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

Ingrid snorted. “What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time?” she said, smiling in return. “I… I’ll see you soon, Dimitri.” Ingrid lingered for a moment longer before finally heading off towards her room, leaving Dimitri to wearily enter his own. He placed Ingrid’s letter on his desk to read later and collapsed in his bed, falling asleep instantly.

~*~

_ Dear Dimitri, _

_ When I received the news that Cornelia had executed you, I was distraught. I mourned for as long as the war would allow me before I had no choice but to keep moving on. I’ve spent the last few years since that time wondering if there was anything I could do to make up for your death, to serve the Kingdom in your stead. If I couldn’t be your knight, then I would at least be a knight serving in your vision. _

_ At Gronder Field this last month, when I saw you again, I realized how wrong my thought process had been. I had been so occupied with being the perfect servant to the Kingdom that I hadn’t once stopped to consider if your desires, dreams, hopes, and ideals were different from the Kingdom’s. I hadn’t once thought about how much you might still be hurting, or how lonely you would have been if you had actually survived. Seeing you in that battle was painful, but not for the reasons that you’re probably thinking of. I felt shame because I had done nothing when my king, but more importantly my friend, needed me most. _

_ I’ve had a lot of time to think in the last month, while you’ve been recovering. I still want to be a knight. I still want to serve the Kingdom, and be what Glenn never had a chance to. I still believe in chivalry, and honor, and duty. _

_ But I have failed in my duty to you, Dimitri, and I hope that you can forgive me. I want to stand by you as a Kingdom knight, but I also want to stand with you as a friend. I know you are not the same Dimitri who I parted ways with five years ago, but you are still my friend. I know we haven’t been close in a long time, but I’m willing to try and fix that if you are. _

_ Also, I know that I left the Blue Lions house to learn under Professor Byleth, but that wasn’t supposed to mean that I was breaking off our friendship. I hope you didn’t take it that way, because that’s not what it was meant to be. I’m sorry. _

_ Yours truly, _

_ Ingrid _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can guarantee that you won't be getting another chapter for at least a month, because the aforementioned fic/art exchange piece is due on February 13th, and then the DLC comes out, and then... yeah. But I'll do my absolute best!


	6. Step 5: Pray For Your Friends' Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude's army marches to Fort Merceus. Dimitri is left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY y'all, this month has been a doozy. I spent the first half of the month trying to finish another fic for an exchange, and this fic fell to the backburner for a bit. Hopefully, I'll have a little bit more time and energy to update, but I'll probably still only have the time to update twice a month at the most. School sucks! Thanks for your understanding, and thanks for reading <3

**Harpstring Moon, Day 23  
**

_ Dimitri’s whole body was trembling with exertion, given how out of practice he was. His face was flushed red and he was panting for breath. He hadn’t trained this hard in a long time, but he was grateful for the refresher. Sylvain stood across from him, twirling his lance between two fingers. Naturally, he hadn’t broken a sweat at all. “Is that all you’ve got, Your Highness?” he taunted, taking a ready stance. “Come at me with everything this time.” _

_ Dimitri rushed forward, swiping his lance upward at Sylvain’s arm. Sylvain deftly dodged the blow, aiming his own lance at Dimitri’s chest. Dimitri blocked the blow with a downward swing and stabbed forward, letting his momentum carry him. His lance cut through Sylvain’s armorless midsection, drawing blood. _

_ “Kill him,” a voice whispered. “Do the only thing you’re good at.” _

_ Dimitri stabbed again, this time making contact with Sylvain’s shoulder. His lance punctured Sylvain’s flesh, leaving behind a gaping hole. _

_ Stop, Dimitri pleaded with himself, but he was no longer in control. Stop, please, stop! _

_ Dimitri’s arms moved on their own, stabbing again and again, until Sylvain’s body fell to the ground with a lifeless thump. His hands were drenched in blood, his cheeks splattered with red. He couldn’t breathe. _

Dimitri awoke with a start. His sheets were soaked through with sweat, and his face was wet with tears. He stared at his hands. They were clean.

He let out a shaky breath, rolled over in bed, and went back to sleep.

**Harpstring Moon, Day 24**

“Dimitri, we should take a break,” Dedue said firmly, lowering his lance. Dimitri sighed but handed his lance to Dedue and sat down on the steps at the edge of the training grounds. The normally busy area was completely desolate that day, given that most of the troops were currently marching to Fort Merceus.

“Thank you for training with me,” Dimitri said as Dedue sat next to him.

Dedue smiled. “I am happy to help you, Dimitri.” Dedue still said his name hesitantly, the word unfamiliar on his tongue, but he was trying, and that was all Dimitri could ask.

“I know you are, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve thanks. I believe it was you who told me that,” Dimitri said, trying his best to smile in return.

“I did not think you would use my own logic against me,” Dedue admitted with a chuckle. He paused. “How are you doing? I know it is hard being left behind.”

Dimitri closed his eye. He could still see Sylvain’s terrified expression from his nightmare, a reminder of how things could have been if the professor hadn’t intervened two days ago. He let out a heavy sigh. “I am not ready for the battlefield yet. The most I can do now is train so that I can be prepared for the next battle.”

“Certainly, but do not overexert yourself,” Dedue said, that same gentle firmness in his voice.

“I won’t,” Dimitri agreed. But in the back of his mind, all he could think about was practicing the same maneuver, again and again and again, until he’d broken his instinct to kill.

**Harpstring Moon, Day 25**

_ The air was thick with smoke and screams. Unfolding before him was a battle with unimaginable intensity— dark magic streaking through the air, swords clashing, axes swinging, The battlefield was chaotic and bloody. There were bodies scattered about, left to rot by uncaring soldiers with more noble ambitions in mind. It sickened Dimitri’s mind to think of the dead being treated so carelessly, with no honor at all. He had done the same, of course, but those had been cruel soldiers, ruthless commanders, all serving under her regime-- _

_ It didn’t matter. Dimitri wasn’t here to dwell on his past, not when such a catastrophe was now unfolding in front of his eyes. Claude was leading the charge, mounted on his wyvern. He gracefully weaved through the mobs of Imperial soldiers-- slice, steer up, loose off a shot, dive down to take another swing-- and Dimitri just watched him move for a moment, wondering if there was any hope he could survive. _

_ They were hopelessly outnumbered. Imperial forces flooded out of every crevice and corner of the fort ahead, easily meeting Claude’s forces. Felix viciously cut down man after man, waiting for nobody to follow him. Annette struggled to cover him, sending gust after gust of wind, and Sylvain rode behind, alternating magic and lance to clear a path for her to push forward behind Felix. Ingrid flew above them on her pegasus, expertly performing the same dance as Claude-- stab, dodge, weave, dive-- as she took out the stragglers. Together, they were a formidable unit. But they wouldn’t be enough. They needed someone with unbridled strength, unwavering resolve, durability to stand up to the injuries that were quickly covering every inch of their skins. They needed Dedue, they needed Dimitri, and curse him, he was “recovering” and “unfit to fight” and “forced to the sidelines” when his friends needed him most. Dimitri struggled to move, but he was constrained to the position of onlooker, could do nothing but watch as blood pooled around Felix’s feet and caked Ingrid’s hair and tainted Sylvain’s smile. _

_ Ingrid screamed as Sylvain rushed forward to take a hit meant for her. A blast of dark magic hit him in the chest, knocking him off his horse, his body still thrumming with energy from the blast. Ingrid angrily swooped down, skewering the mage who had struck Sylvain, but it was too late; horse’s trampled Sylvain’s limp body, beating the life out of every breath. Dimitri couldn’t see his face clearly, but he could have sworn that Sylvain was smiling. _

_ And Ingrid was pummeled with arrows, sending her careening towards the ground at top speed. She hopped back to her feet nimbly, ignoring the way her ankle was twisted so her foot landed slightly wrong. Felix rushed to her side, cutting down everyone in his path without mercy, hesitating for just a second to take a last glance at Sylvain’s broken body. There were tears trickling down his cheeks. Ingrid was crying, too. _

_ The pair of them stood back to back as the Imperial forces closed in. Annette had disappeared in the fray, probably injured or dead. It was hopeless, foolish of them to resist the Empire’s conquest, stupid! Ingrid and Felix fought the incoming forces with the coordination of two friends who knew each other better than they knew themselves, but their strength was waning. Felix was running out of magic. Ingrid was running out of stamina. Both were breathing heavily, blood dripping down across their faces and through their clothes. Each sword strike and lance thrust was weaker than the last. Dimitri almost wished they would go down faster and end their own suffering. _

_ But no, that wasn’t honorable for a knight like Ingrid, and Felix was far too stubborn to give in without expending every ounce of his strength. _

_ Dimitri wanted to look away, or to jump to their rescue, but instead he watched as his friends died slowly before his eyes. He watched, unable to intervene, as an Imperial soldier stabbed Felix in the gut and another struck Ingrid down with a thunderbolt summoned from the heavens. He listened to their helpless screams. He watched their blood soak the cobblestone floor, gushing over every crevice and crack. _

_ “You always were a useless friend,” Sylvain taunted, his ghost rising up from his twisted corpse. “Never could keep us safe. We could never rely on you.” _

_ “I should have picked a better king to serve under,” Ingrid whispered mournfully, her ghost floating above the battlefield to join Sylvain’s. _

_ “I told you, he was nothing but a boar. A beast. A monster,” Felix scoffed. _

_ “We never should have wasted our time trying to bring him back to full strength,” Claude said, shaking his head in disappointment. “Felix was right. He was a lost cause.” _

_ “What was the point in trying so hard to make him himself again if he wasn’t even going to be here for this battle?” Sylvain said harshly, swooping down right in front of Dimitri’s face, close enough that Dimitri could have touched him if he was still alive. _

_ “He’ll die soon enough by Edelgard’s hand, just like us,” Ingrid said dismissively. _

_ “Boar. Beast. Monster.” The ghosts began to swirl around him, their voices echoing from all around and increasing in intensity, drowning out Dimitri’s thoughts. When they disappeared, he was alone, falling through darkness… _

**Harpstring Moon, Day 26**

Dimitri forced himself to train with Dedue and take a bath before returning to his room. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep, not without more nightmares overtaking him. Instead, he sat at his desk, gripping Ingrid’s letter with both hands, and read her words over, and over, and over again, until he was certain that he remembered them. Ingrid still cared about him. Ingrid still considered him a friend. Ingrid did not think he was a monster.

Right?

**Harpstring Moon, Day 27**

_ Dimitri’s lance bounced off Edelgard’s plate armor, and Edelgard swung her axe into Dimitri’s left side, piercing his flesh. He stumbled backwards and barely repositioned his lance up to block Edelgard’s next attack, this one aiming for his chest. Blood soaked Dimitri’s fur coat and pain shot up his left side, but he ignored it and surged forward again, stabbing blindly towards the gap in Edelgard’s armor. She repelled his attack easily, her sheer strength forcing Dimitri to step back again. In the torrential rain, Dimitri nearly slipped and fell. Edelgard charged forward, using the momentum to her advantage and taking another few swings in Dimitri’s direction. Dimitri was put on the defensive, his arms aching as he defended each of her powerful strikes. _

_ “Just a little more,” Dimitri muttered. “I must… have her head…” _

_ Dimitri took a deep breath, summoned the last of his strength, and spun his lance over his head before landing a powerful downward strike, causing Edelgard to cry out and lose her footing. For just one moment, it looked like he might have a chance, and then Edelgard flung a throwing axe at Dimitri’s leg, causing his knee to collapse. Dimitri fell to one knee, and Edelgard swung her axe at his head, leaving behind a large gash. Dimitri tried to stand through the pain, but he couldn’t summon the strength. The rain continued to fall, mixing with the blood dripping down his face and down his side. He licked his lips. They tasted of blood. _

_ Edelgard sauntered over to him slowly, wielding her giant axe with one hand. The ghosts settled in the empty space around her, their eerie gazes trained on Dimitri alone. How unfair, that he was carrying the sins of them both. _

_ “Edelgard… You… I will kill you…” Dimitri struggled to speak, each word coming out forcefully. “You will know the regret of my father, who was killed for you! Of my stepmother, who was slain by her own daughter! You will bow your head before all of the lives you trampled for your ideals before you die in misery!” _

_ Edelgard scoffed. “Your obsession with me is appalling. If you were a normal human, you would most certainly have died already.” _

_ “You were never a normal human, though. You have always been a boar, and now you will die one, too,” Glenn sneered from over Edelgard’s shoulder.  _

_ “If only we were born in a time of peace, you might have lived a joyful life as a benevolent ruler,” Edelgard said, and for a moment, Dimitri thought she might have had some remorse in those eyes. It was gone as quickly as he noticed it, and then there was an axe swinging down towards his neck-- _

**Harpstring Moon, Day 28**

Dimitri didn’t get out of bed the next morning. He didn’t feel like doing anything anymore.

**Harpstring Moon, Day 29**

Two knocks sounded at the door, and Dimitri groaned quietly. A moment passed, and there were two more knocks, and then the door opened and Dedue walked in holding a tray with two plates of food.

“Dimitri. You need to eat. I haven’t seen you eat anything since yesterday.”

Dimitri groaned into his pillow loud enough for Dedue to hear, hoping that perhaps he could dissuade his friend by sounding miserable. Dedue was not amused.

“You need to eat something,” Dedue said patiently. He hesitated, then added, “Ingrid has given me permission to feed you myself if I must.”

Dimitri would have chuckled at that if he’d been in a better mood. Instead, he sighed and rolled over so he was facing the ceiling again. Stepmother was floating above him, a vicious smile on her lips. “Do you see how even your best friends tire of you? You are a beast, you are a disgrace—”

Dedue placed a gentle hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, and Dimitri winced in surprise. Right. Eating. Dimitri silently counted to three, using the time to muster up the will to sit up in bed. And Dedue waited the whole time, still balancing the tray on one hand, until Dimitri was sitting and ready. “You don’t deserve him,” Father said with quiet, grave disappointment. “You don’t deserve anyone.”

“Dedue, am I—” Dimitri stopped himself, his throat choked with desperation. “Am I bothering you?”

Dedue smiled that calm, patient smile that Dimitri didn’t deserve. He sat down, placed the tray gently on Dimitri’s lap. “Of course not, Dimitri. It is my pleasure to take care of you.” Dimitri must not have looked convinced by that answer, because Dedue sighed. “Let me ask you something. What else could I be doing right now, as a prisoner of war in an empty war camp?”

“You could be training, or cooking, or gardening, or—” Dimitri faltered. “I… I suppose you’ve already done all of those things today.”

Dedue nodded. “I have. Although even if I had not, there is a limited amount of joy to be had in doing these activities on my own.”

“I… I see.” Dimitri closed his eye and waited, but Father and Stepmother didn’t say anything more. Dimitri opened his eye and examined the tray more closely. Dedue had clearly cooked the meal himself, taking special care to plate the food in an appetizing way. In the corner of the tray was a cup of tea, most likely Claude’s special mix to help Dimitri sleep. “Nothing gets by you, does it?”

“You didn’t ask me to train with you today, and you haven’t left your room,” Dedue said plainly, as if these were signs of Dimitri’s exhaustion and not just a result of him growing soft, being lazy, neglecting his duty—

Dimitri’s hands began to shake, and he had to work to steady them. “Today has been a bad day,” Dimitri said quietly.

“I know,” Dedue replied, taking his plate from the tray. Dimitri reluctantly picked up his fork and knife and began to eat. Dedue had even cut the steak into pieces for him ahead of time to make it easier.

“This is very good,” Dimitri said evenly as he swallowed his first bite. He couldn’t taste it, of course, but he thought Dedue deserved  _ something _ for all of his hard work.

Dedue smiled and began to cut his own piece of meat. Dimitri immediately felt guilty for lying, but it was for Dedue’s good, so it was justified, wasn’t it? “You keep telling yourself that,” Glenn sneered from behind Dedue. “You can’t reason away all your sins, though. Don’t forget the bodies you’ve left behind.”

Dimitri glanced down at his food, at the tender cut of meat. He didn’t feel like eating anymore, although he hadn’t really wanted to eat in the first place. He forced another piece of meat into his mouth, chewing as slowly as possible.

“I am sorry I do not know how to fill the silence,” Dedue said suddenly, and Dimitri felt guilty once again for leaving his closest friend in the dark.

“I am the one who should be talking to you. I have left you to guess why I’ve been so miserable the last few days,” Dimitri said heavily. “I… have been having nightmares again. They have been getting worse.”

“Have you been following Professor Manuela’s advice and writing down the nightmares you have?” Dedue asked, and Dimitri grimaced.

“Ah… no. I…” Dimitri sighed. “I cannot bring myself to relive them.”

“Coward,” Stepmother jeered. Dimitri bit his lip.

“I know I am a coward, but--”

“You are not a coward for being scared of your nightmares,” Dedue interrupted, then immediately said, “Sorry. I should have let you finish.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize, Dedue.” Dimitri’s voice shook as he eyed Patricia’s ghost. He could feel her disappointment.

“Old habits are hard to break,” Dedue admitted with a small smile, or the closest he got to it. Dimitri gave him a shaky smile in return.

“I appreciate that you are trying,” Dimitri said.

“And I appreciate that you are doing the same. It is hard to face one’s fears,” Dedue responded.

Dimitri had never considered that he deserved to be appreciated for the… honestly, atrocious lack of effort he’d put into maintaining Manuela’s schedule for him these last few days. He opened his mouth to argue, then paused at Dedue’s gentle expression. He owed Dedue so much, and arguing would not even begin to pay him back. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I... haven’t been sleeping at all these last couple of days.”

Dedue nodded and said nothing. Dimitri took another bite of his food despite the nausea that was starting to overtake him. If Dedue could force himself to change, then so could Dimitri. And that meant sharing everything.

“I have been dreaming about… about losing the war. About all of our friends dying, a-and--” Dimitri’s voice cracked, and he felt his throat closing up with tears. Dedue put a hand on Dimitri’s, squeezing gently.

“You do not need to worry about the war, Dimitri. Claude will get everyone through alive,” Dedue insisted.

“But what if Edelgard is too strong? What if I am needed on the battlefield, and they do not have my help because I am here, in bed, wasting time?” Dimitri said without thinking, his guilt pushing to the forefront.

“You need to recover so you can fight with your full strength,” Dedue said patiently.

“But without me, Sylvain or Ingrid or any one of them could die, and it will be my fault for not being there!”

“The burden of keeping everyone alive is not just on your shoulders,” Dedue said softly. “You are not alone.”

Right. Of course. Now that he was sitting here, eating a meal with Dedue, it seemed so obvious. Of course he wasn’t alone. He had friends. Friends who cared about him. Friends who had made it this far without him. Friends who could survive, who  _ would _ survive. It was up to him to survive alongside them, too.

Dimitri let his tears fall without restraint, and Dedue sat there holding his hand, providing his fierce and unwavering support. Dedue… was a good friend.

Finally, Dimitri’s tears ran dry, and he wiped his cheeks with the back of one hand. His stomach no longer felt so unsettled, and exhaustion had settled in to every bone and muscle. Dimitri glanced down at his mostly unfinished meal guiltily.

“I do not think I can eat this,” Dimitri said, settling himself back into his bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he felt his eyelid begin to droop. Dedue silently picked up the tray with one hand and pulled the covers up with the other.

“Get some rest, Dimitri. I will be here, by your side, when you wake. There is no need to fear,” Dedue said, and Dimitri wanted to protest, but he didn’t have the strength. Well, that was fine. Dimitri would rest, and one day, he’d have the strength to pay Dedue back for all of his help. But for now, he needed to sleep.

As Dimitri closed his eye, he heard Dedue sit back down in the chair and scoot it closer to the bed. And as he drifted off to sleep, he took comfort in the fact that he was not alone.


	7. Step 6: Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Felix.” Felix ignored the annoying voice that dared to interrupt his training and continued to slash away mercilessly at the training dummy in front of him. “Feeeeeeelix.” Nope, nope, nobody was there, nobody was talking to him. Maintain focus, ignore the distraction that was Sylvain Gautier’s incessant pleading. “Felix, come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some, this self-quarantine might prove productive. For me, it will probably change nothing about how often I write. I hope y'all enjoy the chapter! Felix presented an interesting challenge for me.

“Felix.” Felix ignored the annoying voice that dared to interrupt his training and continued to slash away mercilessly at the training dummy in front of him. “Feeeeeeelix.” Nope, nope, nobody was there, nobody was talking to him. Maintain focus, ignore the distraction that was Sylvain Gautier’s incessant pleading. “Felix, come  _ on _ .”

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius, if you don’t pay attention to us right this instant, I’m going to have Claude put you on bedrest.”

Felix grumbled but kept swinging his sword, strike after strike. Leave it to Ingrid to be annoying  _ and _ effective. “If this is about the boar, I already told you, I’m not interested.”

“He’s doing a lot better—”

“I don’t care.”

“Manuela said—”

“Not my problem.”

“Let me finish a sentence, you asshole!” Ingrid snapped, stepping in to block Felix’s sword with her own, and Felix might’ve pushed her farther if her arm hadn’t been in a cast for an injury that had mostly been his fault. ( _ He was stupid, he hadn’t trained hard enough, he needed to be stronger— _ )

“Look, all that shit you said about Dimitri five years ago... well, you were right when neither of us wanted to see it. So even if we all think that Dimitri is getting better, the person who would know that best... would be you.” Ingrid sighed and dropped her sword. “I’m not asking you to be his best friend, okay? Just... talk to him. That’s all I wanted to ask.” Ingrid stepped back from the training dummy, hands raised in surrender. “You can go back to your training now.”

Felix would die before admitting that Ingrid had a point, so he kicked her sword to the side, started his training set from the top, and pretended not to watch as Ingrid stormed off.

“Nobody’s asking you to do this alone, you know,” Sylvain said after a few moments. Felix had almost forgotten that he was there with how silent he’d been. Felix chose not to respond, hoping that Sylvain would give up. Sylvain, of course, refused to budge.

“This is our chance to get him back, Fe. To get the  _ real _ Dimitri.”

“The real Dimitri is dead,” Felix snarled, whacking the training dummy harder than he needed to. Dimitri had been killed a long time ago, replaced by a boar that wore his skin. And everyone knew that now, so why,  _ why _ , were they falling for his old lies again?

“The real Dimitri is lost, confused, and trying to find his way. You have a chance to help him.” Sylvain’s voice was gentle despite the steel in his words. “It’s up to you what you do, but I thought you’d really jump at a chance like this.”

Felix could have said many things in that moment-- that he was terrified of the boar behind the mask, that he desperately wanted his best friend back but it had been years and years and years and Felix was tired of getting his hopes up. Felix was old and bitter and disappointed, and by Sothis, he didn’t need more on his plate right now.

And yet-- and yet--

Felix slashed at the training dummy so hard that his sword went careening out of his hand, landing at Sylvain’s feet.

“If you want me to come with you, all you have to do is ask,” Sylvain said, that stupid carefree smile on his face. He knelt down, picked up the sword by the hilt, and handed it to Felix.

“I don’t need your help,” Felix said bitingly, taking the sword from Sylvain’s hands. He didn’t need  _ anyone’s  _ help. He just needed everyone to leave him  _ alone _ .

~*~

“Heya, Felix.” Annette skipped over to where Felix was seated  _ alone _ , eating  _ alone _ , enjoying the peace and quiet of being  _ alone _ , and of course Annette had to come over and ruin all of that. She sat down and began to shovel food into her mouth. Felix just watched her, bewildered, as she ate at twice the speed of a regular human being. It took Annette a few minutes to notice Felix’s expression, and then her face flushed red. “H-hey! What are you staring at?”

“You’re eating way too fast. You’ll choke,” Felix said, his previous foul mood completely forgotten.

“I’m hungry, okay? It’s been a busy day. There’s a lot to do before we can march on Enbarr,” Annette pouted, then scooped another spoonful of food into her mouth without hesitation. Felix bit down his laughter, knowing she’d just chew him out for teasing her.

Ashe walked up to the table with his plate. “Can I join you all?” he asked, his characteristically cheerful smile on his face, and Felix immediately knew two things: 1) any dwindling hope of having a peaceful meal was now gone, and 2) there was no way he was getting out of this without agreeing to something he didn’t actually want to do.

“Sure!” Annette said happily, oblivious to Felix’s inner panic. Felix wished he had the power to turn either of them down, or to turn into the wind and escape, but he had neither.

Ashe sat down next to Annette and began eating at a much slower, much more reasonable pace. “How’s it going, Felix? Have you gotten a chance to talk to Dimitri yet? He’s taking visitors now.”

“No,” Felix mumbled, glaring down at his food to avoid having to meet either Ashe’s or Annette’s expectant faces.

“That’s okay. I haven’t gone yet, but Dedue has been giving His Highness-- I mean, Dimitri-- all of my notes I’ve been taking during war council meetings, and apparently they’ve been very useful. I’m hoping I can drop by soon to at least say hello,” Ashe said earnestly.

“It’s so hard to find the time, what with everything we have to do to prepare for Enbarr, though,” Annette grumbled through a mouthful of food. “But honestly, with how much work we’re all doing, Claude is probably doing ten times more, so we need to keep it up! We can’t let our fearless leader overwork himself.”

Ashe chuckled. “I don’t think we can really stop him, Annette. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Claude actually sleep at night. He’s always staying up late doing paperwork or reading books.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Annette said with a sigh. “Hey, Felix, do you want to go talk to Dimitri together after this? I think I have some free time before I have to attend the mage study circle tonight.”

“I’m busy,” Felix said as smoothly as possible, hoping that Ashe and Annette wouldn’t push the subject. And as usual, they pushed the subject unintentionally.

“Well, you should drop by when you can. Dedue told me that Dimitri was really worried about all of us while we were at Fort Merceus, and he keeps asking about you,” Ashe said casually.

Annette nodded. “I bet he’s missed being able to talk to all of us. It’s hard watching everyone working hard while you’re stuck in bed doing nothing. Especially since he hadn’t seen any of us in five years!”

“Oh, you’re right, Annette. I hadn’t thought about that. I’ll have to catch him up on everything that’s happened,” Ashe said with a smile.

_ I can tell him all about how we all thought he was dead, and I mourned his absence, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what I could have done to stop him from-- _

“Felix, is everything okay?” Annette asked, giving him a concerned look and oh no, those big brown eyes of hers were impossible to resist.

“Yes,” Felix said slowly, both hoping that a short answer would satisfy her and knowing that it would not.

“Are you worried about visiting Dimitri? I know it can be hard to talk to someone after not talking to them for so long,” Annette said reassuringly.

“It’s not…” Felix groaned. There was no way he could explain this to her, and there was only one answer she’d accept. “It’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

“Okay, let me know how it goes,” she said, and Felix wondered not for the first time if being trapped by the two radiant beams of sunshine was a fate worse than death.

~*~

Dimitri was glad that his friends were back from battle and mostly unharmed, but he hadn’t realized how exhausting their presence would be. Practically every hour, someone came by to talk to him, see how he was doing, tell him what he had missed. And he appreciated it, he really did! It felt good to be loved. He was just tired, that was all. He needed some time alone to think.

So he left his room late at night, long after he expected visitors, flipping the sign on his door to the side that said, “Dimitri is out right now.” Annette had quickly put together the hasty sign after waiting outside his door that evening while he’d been in the baths. Dimitri thought it was a little silly, but maybe it would be useful.

Dimitri was cautious as he walked to the training grounds. It was late enough at night that the monastery grounds were mostly empty, but he still kept his eye out for people he knew. The last thing he wanted was another conversation. So when he arrived at the training grounds and heard no discernible sounds, he was relieved— at least, until he stepped inside and saw Felix, sitting on the steps, two wooden training swords in hand.

Dimitri began to back away towards the door. He could have sworn Felix usually trained in the mornings and early evenings, but maybe he’d remembered wrong. “Oh, ah, Felix. I, ah— I’ll leave you alone, I don’t want to disturb—”

“Spar with me.” Felix’s forceful voice stopped Dimitri in his tracks. He couldn’t tell if Felix was angry with him or not.

“A-are you sure?” Dimitri asked. He blinked and for a moment, he saw Sylvain’s terrified expression. “I-I’m not… I’m not entirely safe to spar with.”

“More of a challenge for me.” Felix thrust a wooden sword towards Dimitri and he flinched before realizing that Felix had pointed the hilt towards him. Dimitri hesitantly took the sword, his hand trembling. “I’m not a fool like Sylvain. I know what I’m doing.”

So he knew, and he was doing this anyway. Felix always knew, always saw through Dimitri’s walls.

Dimitri let out a breath and squared his shoulders. If Felix was giving him a chance, he wouldn’t squander it. “All right. I’m ready.”

Felix rushed towards Dimitri, and Dimitri realized that he was not ready at all. He clumsily parried the first couple of attacks and struggled to defend himself for a solid twenty seconds before Manuela’s advice came back to him.

_ “Professor, I— I don’t think I’m ready to talk to all of… everyone. They’ll see me, a-and then they’ll know—” _

_ “Dimitri. Listen to me.” Manuela took his trembling hands in hers. “Stop waiting for the perfect moment to talk to them. Stop worrying about being the perfect prince. Just let it happen. Let them see you, flaws and all.” _

_ “And if they do not accept me?” Dimitri asked, voice wavering. _

_ “They will. That’s what friends do.” Manuela smiled. “And if they don’t, then they weren’t ever your friends, were they?” _

Felix had never wanted him to be perfect, anyway. That perfect facade had annoyed Felix to no end.

Dimitri caught Felix’s sword with his own and pushed hard against it, forcing Felix to stumble backwards. Swords were hardly his best weapon, but he had sparred with Felix enough times before to know how to handle one. He went on the offensive, spinning around to land a strong strike to Felix’s left side. Felix grunted from the impact and grinned as he landed on his feet, knees bent.

“About time,” Felix said, and then the real fight began.

It could have been minutes that they spent interlocked in their complex dance, or it could have been hours, and Dimitri would not have noticed the difference. There was something so familiar, so  _ comforting _ about sparring with Felix. It was a return to simpler days, when Felix had smiled easier and Dimitri had smiled at all. And he knew the steps to this dance, knew when to duck and weave and parry and strike. It felt like home.

Fittingly, Dimitri was the first to give in, his sword dropping from his tired hands. Felix smiled triumphantly, just for a moment, before his normal scowl returned. He kept his wooden sword pointed at Dimitri’s throat, even as Dimitri raised his hands in surrender.

“Your act might fool everyone else,” Felix said, “but it won’t fool me.”

“It never has,” Dimitri said quietly.

“No, it hasn’t. So if any of this— if this is just you, going back to your lying ways—”

“What would you have me do, Felix?” Dimitri asked suddenly, interrupting Felix before he could finish his threat. “What should I do, instead of pretending?”

“Stop living for the dead! Live for the people who are right here, doing everything they can to help you,” Felix spat angrily.

“...I see.” Dimitri closed his eye. “I just want… I want them to be avenged, Felix.”

Felix scoffed. “It’s fine to avenge them, but what comes after, idiot? What will you do once you succeed?”

“I… I don’t—”

“Of course you haven’t thought about it,” Felix said, crossing his arms. “The professor once asked me a similar question. If you want to be anything more than a boar, start by finding your answer.”

“Thank you, Felix. I will try my best,” Dimitri said softly, trying to give Felix the smile he deserved.

“Don’t think this changes things between us,” Felix said emphatically, dropping his sword hand to his side. “I still haven’t forgiven you.”

“And you shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of this kindness,” Dimitri said before he could stop himself.

Felix glared at Dimitri again, or at least more than he already had been. “You don’t deserve it, but you have it. Don’t let it go to waste.”

Dimitri didn’t know what to say to that, and Felix apparently didn’t care to wait any longer. He stormed out of the training hall in typical Felix fashion, but Dimitri knew from years of interpreting Felix’s behavior that he wasn’t angry because he stopped to put both of their swords back on the rack first. In fact, he might have even been… happy.


	8. Step 7: Actually Join the Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri tries to figure out how to convince Claude to let him go to Enbarr. Luckily, Claude has his own plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the "I-haven't-updated-in-a-month" and "write-a-complete-chapter-before-posting" brain cells in my head kept fighting today and then I decided it's been a month since the last update and this bit is long enough to be its own chapter, so I might as well give y'all something to read. 
> 
> I know as a fic reader it's really easy to think that an author has forgotten a fic after not updating for a month, but I promise, I'm not giving up on this fic. I have a plan for the ending, and I think I know how to get there, but I have no idea how many actual chapters it will take, so buckle up.
> 
> I've been super busy writing my thesis, and it's hard to have enough writing energy to do both this and that. but my thesis is due this weekend so maybe I'll have more time to write! or maybe animal crossing will consume all my free time, who knows! all we can all do right now is our best
> 
> feel free to reach out to me at @maaaaaaayuri on twitter
> 
> and as always, thanks for reading!

**Garland Moon, Day 4**

Dimitri couldn’t stop thinking about Felix’s words. What would he do, once he had gotten his revenge? And what if he didn’t even deal the final blow? If Claude carried out his revenge for him, what was left for him afterwards? Why was he still alive?

Dimitri couldn’t think of a good answer, no matter how hard he tried. For one thing, he was still recovering, and he spent much of his time asleep or facing nightmares. For another, the ghosts kept interrupting his thoughts, reminding him that there was no life for him until he killed Edelgard. And through it all, his friends kept dropping by, bringing him food he did not want to eat and giving him kindness he did not deserve. His friends and classmates wanted him to recover; his allies wanted him to take the throne. What did it matter what he wanted, when faced with such tall orders?

He asked Manuela about it at his next therapy session. 

“What do people live for?”

Manuela paused. “Well, many things. For their dreams to change the world, or their desire to make a happy life for themselves. Why do you ask?”

“What if I were to live to repent? To make up for the sins I have committed and the people I have killed?” Dimitri asked.

“It shouldn’t be your final goal, but it’s not a bad start,” Manuela said.

Hmm, so just like his plan for revenge; it was only a temporary goal. What had he wanted back when his family was alive and things looked bright? Dimitri couldn’t even remember.

“What makes you happy, Dimitri?”

The obvious answer to Dimitri was justice for the dead, but he tried to look beyond that. Dimitri thought about Felix, who had hated him ever since Duscur, and Ingrid, who was striving to be a knight even as the Kingdom crumbled, and Sylvain, who kept them all together. He thought about Claude, who had shot silly jokes in his direction even as Dimitri tried to kill him. He thought about Mercedes and Marianne, who had both taken care of him despite everything, and Dedue, who was always by his side, who had once lived to serve him but now looked to revitalize his homeland.

“I think it would make me happy to see my friends happy,” Dimitri said finally.

Manuela seemed satisfied by this answer. “Well then, maybe that’s what you ought to live for, until you can find a goal of your own that doesn’t rely on others. But remember, you can’t do anything for your friends until you’ve helped yourself first.”

“I… see.” Dimitri could live for his friends, even if that, too, was temporary. It was better than living for justice, or penance, both things that were fleeting and easily forgotten. And it was as Felix had suggested, anyway-- he ought to live for the living, not the dead. “Thank you, Professor Manuela. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“I’m glad to hear it, because it hasn’t been easy,” Manuela teased, or at least, Dimitri thought she was teasing. “Still, you seem to be improving. Keep it up, okay? You’ll be back on your feet before you know it.”

Dimitri nodded, a goal forming in his mind as Manuela took her leave. He didn’t know if it was possible, but he was going to do his best to get battle-ready by the end of the month. When Claude’s army marched to Enbarr, he would be right beside them, ready to fight. He had to be.

~*~

Dimitri was heading towards the training hall early in the morning when he heard someone distantly calling his name. He turned around to follow the somewhat unfamiliar voice and found Claude waving and walking his direction, “Good morning, your Royalness,” Claude said, cleverly swapping out one outdated nickname for another more appropriate. Dimitri hadn’t even thought about what his title was: he’d never been named king, but he was hardly a prince anymore, either.

“Good morning, Claude. How can I help you?” Dimitri said.

“Ride with me. I’m about to go out for fresh air anyway, and you look like you could use some time to get reacquainted with the horses,” Claude said with a wink, and then he turned and walked towards the stables without waiting for Dimitri’s response. Dimitri opened his mouth to refuse the invitation, then thought better of it. Claude wasn’t wrong about Dimitri needing to learn to ride again; it had been quite some time since he’d been in contact with a horse.

The only other person at the stables so early in the morning was Ferdinand, who was busy tending to the horses one by one. He nodded at the pair as they walked by. “Good morning, Claude. Did you get some sleep?”

“You know it,” Claude responded quickly, and Ferdinand sighed.

“You are lucky that it was me here this morning and not Ingrid. If she finds out you have been neglecting your health again, you are in for a very long and stern talking-to,” Ferdinand scolded, but only half-heartedly so. He himself seemed to be worse for the wear, his usual cheery disposition dimmed by an exhaustion that hadn’t been as solidly present when Dimitri had last seen the man. “Ah, and good morning, Dimitri. It is good to see you in better health.”

“I, ah, thank you,” Dimitri said about as smoothly as crunchy peanut butter.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back before the war council meeting,” Claude said as he began to saddle up one of the horses, a gorgeous cream-colored stallion. “Oh, can you pick out a horse for Dimitri, actually? He hasn’t been down to the stables at all.”

“I would be happy to,” Ferdinand said, giving his signature pearly smile. “Follow me, Dimitri. I believe I have the perfect horse in mind.”

For the second time that morning, Dimitri followed another person without getting a say in the matter. “You seem quite surprised to see me, Dimitri. Did you not remember my love of horses?” Ferdinand asked as they walked to the back end of the stables.

“No, it isn’t that. I was just thinking... ” Dimitri trailed off. He could only imagine how painful it must be to fight against one’s homeland and people… and to be honest, he had no idea why Ferdinand was doing it. “...Why did you leave the Empire and join Claude’s army?”

“Edelgard is a strong leader, but her hand is misled. I could not fight under her, not when her orders leave so many in pain. My territory was thrown into chaos, and I could do very little to help those who were suffering. When I heard of the professor’s return, and Claude’s intent to lead a resistance, I knew where I belonged,” Ferdinand declared, passion bleeding into his weary voice. “And Claude has been an excellent leader. We are due to capture Enbarr next month, should everything go according to plan.”

Dimitri nodded. “I have heard as much from Dedue.”

Ferdinand stopped suddenly in front of a black horse with a neatly brushed mane. “This horse will do. I tended to her first, so she’s all ready to go. Would you like help with the saddle?”

“I believe I remember how,” Dimitri said, although he knew there was no way he’d forgotten. Dimitri had saddled a horse too many times in his youth to have lost the instinct that came with practice. Even as his mind had discarded the information as useless, his fingers still remembered, picking the straps apart with ease. Ferdinand watched, satisfied, as Dimitri worked.

“It will be good for you to ride again. Riding always helps clear my mind,” Ferdinand said cheerfully. “And in a war like this, it is important to keep one’s mind sharp and focused.”

Sharp and focused. Dimitri had been focused, perhaps too much so, when pursuing Edelgard. Now, he felt aimless, with only temporary goals in mind. Focus would be much harder to achieve. “Thank you,” Dimitri said sincerely. “And you ought to get some rest as well. You seem to be just as tired as Claude.”

Ferdinand laughed sheepishly. “I was up very late into the night working, but worry not. I plan to rest before the meeting this morning. Dorothea threatened to set Ingrid on me if I did not, and I shudder to think of what that would entail.”

“Ingrid is very tenacious,” Dimitri agreed. Ever since her return, she’d visited Dimitri daily, either to bring him food or to chat with him. She always made time for him, even when it seemed clear that there were other things she needed to do. Dimitri did not deserve her. He gently tugged on the reins, and the horse obediently began to turn around. “I should not keep Claude waiting any longer.”

“Yes, and I should get back to the horses. I hope your ride is enjoyable,” Ferdinand said, and then he stepped aside to allow Dimitri to lead the horse out of the stables and into the courtyard. Claude sat atop his own horse expectantly.

“Taking your time, your Royalness?” Claude teased. Dimitri noted that Claude was now balancing a basket in his lap, though Dimitri had no idea how he’d acquired it in such a short timespan. “Shall we be off? Just follow my lead.”

“Very well,” Dimitri said, trying to appear more put together than he felt. Something about Claude’s whimsical yet controlled way of doing things always left Dimitri feeling overwhelmed and confused, even in their academy days, and this was no different. Then again, that whimsy had led to Claude sparing his life, and Claude’s schemes had helped him heal. He had no doubt that Claude had been moving the pieces behind the scenes as Dimitri had rested in bed and struggled to shut the ghosts out. Claude von Riegan was a talented man.

Despite being a wyvern rider by trade, it turned out that Claude was an excellent horse rider as well. He expertly led Dimitri out of Garreg Mach and into the surrounding forest, navigating the paths with ease. Some of the paths were less well kept, littered with fallen tree branches and foliage, but the path they took that morning had been cleared recently and was easier to navigate-- initially, at least. The farther they went into the forest, the narrower the paths became and the more they wound in snake-like patterns. Dimitri struggled to keep up, and he had to stop his horse from plowing into a tree or stump multiple times. Finally, they came into a small clearing overlooking a cliff. Claude dismounted his horse and tied the reins to a nearby tree, and Dimitri did the same. As Claude set out a small bowl of water for the horses to drink, Dimitri wandered to the edge of the clearing. Beyond the cliff’s edge and the canyon below lay Garreg Mach, its stone towers peeking through the morning mist. Trees stretched lazily above them, shading them from the rising sun. The sky was flushed with the light pinks and oranges of dawn.

“This is gorgeous,” Dimitri said quietly, his voice overwhelmed by sheer awe at the beauty of the sunrise. He was almost always awake for the sunrise, but he hardly ever paid it any attention. He was too busy training in the morning and preparing for the day ahead to give it any thought. But now that he’d slowed down to watch, he could hardly look away.

“Yeah, Mother Nature’s got a great thing going every morning. Even when I’m as busy as I am now, I like to take a break to watch every now and then,” Claude said, walking up behind Dimitri holding two canteens. “Here. I’ve got breakfast set up, too.”

Dimitri turned to face Claude and his gaze fell on the picnic blanket laid out between two rocks, dotted with an assortment of fruits, nuts, and sweets. “This is…” Dimitri didn’t know what to say. He expected this sort of thing from Ingrid or Mercedes, not from Claude. “I cannot accept such a kind gesture.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Come on, your Royalness. It’s just breakfast.” He walked over to the spread, sat on the far rock, and began to prepare his plate. Dimitri stared at the sunrise for a moment longer, treasuring its commonplace beauty, and then joined Claude at the picnic blanket. Dimitri didn’t recognize the sweets-- they looked like small cakes with nuts, the likes of which Dimitri hadn’t seen in the dining hall-- but he took one anyway, along with a noa fruit and a slice of bread with jam. He couldn’t taste the food, of course, but he savored each bite nonetheless because Claude had been kind enough to prepare this for him. He ate his food slowly as he watched the sunrise, lost in the opportunity to do nothing but just  _ be _ . He didn’t notice Claude’s watchful gaze on him until he’d finished the cake and bread and turned back to pick up the fruit.

“Is something wrong?” Dimitri asked.

“Last time you and I talked at length, my presence was uncomfortable for you,” Claude said, turning his gaze towards the sunrise. “I just wondered if that was still the case.”

“Ah, I…” Dimitri trailed off, unsure of how to explain that the ghosts of his parents wanted Claude dead. “I was only thinking of escaping and killing Edelgard at the time. I am much more stable now.”

“But you still want to kill Edelgard,” Claude said, all playfulness gone from his face.

“I don’t know,” Dimitri admitted, looking down at his food. “It’s… complicated.”

“Then it’ll be perfect for me. I’m the master of complex schemes,” Claude said, leaning forward, his hands clasped.

Dimitri sighed. If there was ever a chance to convince Claude to take him along to Enbarr, this was it-- nice and neatly packaged, the best case scenario that Dimitri could have ever hoped for. “At the Tragedy of Duscur, I saw the Flame Emperor.” Dimitri looked back up to find Claude’s scrutinous gaze once again trained on him. “If she had a hand in the event that killed my family and condemned Duscur to destruction, then it is my duty to kill her and avenge everyone who died that night.”

Claude hummed and leaned back, crossing his arms. “I get it. You want to kill the Flame Emperor, but you don’t want to kill  _ Edelgard _ .”

“I just can’t believe--” Dimitri shook his head, his voice full of anguish. “Why would she approve of such a tragedy? Why would she let it happen if she had the power to stop it?”

“What makes that so hard to believe?” Claude asked, his voice almost cold for a moment before he slipped back into measured evenness. “She intentionally waged a war that’s brought nothing but suffering to thousands. Whatever her ideals are, she’s willing to do whatever it takes to get them.”

“Even kill her own mother?” Dimitri shouted, and he couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied at the shock on Claude’s face. “Edelgard is my stepsister. I cannot believe someone would willingly sacrifice their own family like that. I can’t…” Dimitri trailed off, letting out a breath. “Forgive me. I lost myself for a moment.”

“No, no, you’re right,” Claude said distractedly, his mind already moving quicker than Dimitri could comprehend. “Something’s not adding up here. I’ll look into it.”

“Huh?” Dimitri gave Claude a blank stare.

“I’ll tap our intel network, keep an ear to the ground. Maybe someone knows something. These things always come out eventually,” Claude said dismissively.

Dimitri had never in the last five years thought about the possibility of finding the real truth behind the Tragedy of Duscur. Once he’d seen Edelgard as the Flame Emperor, she had become his truth. It had to have been her, there couldn’t have been any other way, he knew what he’d seen… and as much as he hadn’t wanted to believe it, he’d desperately pushed forward, looking for the end of the road. And now Claude was providing him another path to the same destination, and he’d done it without a second thought.

“But, you know, to end this war…” Claude sighed. “Well, I don’t think the empress can exactly be negotiated with.”

“Let me come with you.” The words tumbled out of Dimitri’s mouth before he even realized he’d spoken. “I… I don’t expect that she’ll listen. But I want to try to talk to her if I can.”

“Always the upstanding little prince, aren’t you?” Claude gave Dimitri his signature cheeky grin. “I can work with that. But I’m not going to let you or anyone die out there, okay? If it’s your life or hers, I’m going to give the order.”

“I understand. I cannot thank you enough for this chance. For… for all of this.” Dimitri said earnestly.

Claude’s serious expression melted fluidly into a mischievous smile. He gazed back towards the cliff, his green eyes sparkling with light from the now mostly risen sun. “Let’s just say you owe me a favor, then. A favor of my choosing.”

“If it’s within my power, I’d be happy to do whatever it is you require,” Dimitri said immediately. In exchange for knowing the truth about The Tragedy, and for a chance to face Edelgard himself, there was nothing he would not do.

“I’ll think on it,” Claude said with a wink. “Anyway, we should be getting back, yeah? The war council meeting will start soon, and we should both be there.”

“We?” Dimitri asked, hastily shoving the last bite of fruit into his mouth.

Claude raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’re coming to Enbarr, aren’t you?”

Dimitri’s face brightened, and he nodded. “Yes, I am. I just wasn’t sure if-- no matter, I-I’ll be there.”

“Great. Welcome aboard, your Royalness. We’ll be glad to have you.”


	9. Step 7.3: Actually Join the Army, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are too many cooks in the kitchen, and Dimitri almost falls into the lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing my thesis killed me and drained all the writing energy from my life, but I'm back! Updates will probably still be slow for a while because I'm in the process of moving, but I have at least half of the next chapter written because it was going to go in this chapter before this chapter got insanely long and I decided to split it. Thanks again for reading, and I hope y'all are all doing okay!
> 
> Also, shoutout to Bel and Jade for the ideas, and to the rest of the server for support. Y'all gave me the fuel I needed to finish this chapter.

**Garland Moon, Day 7**

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to add the sugar  _ before  _ you start whipping the egg whites,” Leonie said, giving the bowl in Raphael’s hands a critical look. “Actually, did you add any sugar at all? This doesn’t even smell sweet.”

“Uhhhh.” Raphael turned to Annette. “Did we add sugar, Annette? I was just stirring like crazy.”

Annette nodded. “Yup, definitely. I was adding while Raph stirred!”

“Um, we have the sugar over here, though,” Ignatz called out, holding up a bag of white powder. He and Ashe were standing by the stove, and Ashe was intently watching something boil.

“Oh, umm…” Annette glanced over at the counter nervously. “I guess I added… this? I thought it was sugar, honest!”

Leonie smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Annette. That’s flour.”

“Mercie’s gone for one  _ hour _ , and we can’t do anything right,” Dorothea lamented, hiding her amused smile behind one hand. “Bernie, dear, it looks like we’re going to need to crack some more eggs. I don’t think this can be salvaged.”

Lysithea made a noise that was a mix of disgust and amusement. “I’ll come back in a couple hours to taste test. It’s obvious you guys won’t be done any time soon.” She stood up from her seat, gave the kitchen one last worried look, and left. 

Dimitri sat awkwardly by himself, watching the mess unfold helplessly. Dedue patiently walked over to try and defuse the situation.

“Um, should I also leave?” Dimitri asked.

“No, Dimitri, stay! We’re going to make the best macaroons ever, I promise!” Annette said cheerfully, waving her arms around wildly and nearly knocking down the bag of flour. 

Dedue gently set the bag of flour upright as he spoke. “Annette, could you get the butter from the fridge?”

“Aye aye, captain!” Annette said, saluting, and she ran off to the back room. Leonie waited until she was gone to groan fully.

“What do we do with this, Dedue? Do we have to throw it out?”

Dedue shook his head. “Mercedes would know better than I, but we can probably reuse this for the batter rather than the filling.”

“I can go fetch her, if you would like,” Dimitri volunteered.

“Mercie’s taking a healing shift until the end of the hour,” Dorothea cut in. “But it’s very nice of you to offer, Dimi. You’re such a sweetheart for helping at all in the first place.”

“I’m not quite certain I would call this helping,” Dimitri said sheepishly. The group had come to Dimitri to ask him for help with delivering the sweets to the townspeople, as a sort of pick-me-up to lighten spirits around Garreg Mach, and Dimitri had agreed, figuring that now was not a great time to test his abilities in the kitchen given the fact that he couldn’t taste. Watching now, he wasn’t certain he could handle the chaos in the kitchen anyway. 

And yet… it was an ordered chaos, the kind that formed naturally when you fought to the death alongside a group of people. Ignatz, Dedue, and Dorothea were prepared for Annette’s mistakes. Bernadetta and Annette were always ready to give the next ingredient to Ashe and Leonie. Dorothea and Leonie were naturally gentle with Bernadetta and Ignatz, and they knew how to coach the timid pair. In their Academy days, they’d all gotten along well enough, but it was obvious now that the horrors of war had strengthened those bonds tenfold. Dimitri didn’t see a spot for him in the picture, and he felt an unpleasant pit in his stomach at the thought.

Dimitri waited for a lull in the action to catch Dedue’s attention. “I will go wait outside, by the docks. Fetch me when you need my help.” Dedue nodded, acknowledging the message but still focusing intently as he measured out some liquid ingredients. Dimitri took that as his cue to escape the situation. He needed fresh air, and a chance to think.

Dimitri wandered aimlessly about the school grounds for a moment, letting his legs carry him as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. Manuela had told him that adjusting to how his friends were different after five years would be difficult. People had changed while he was gone, and friendships had formed. This was normal, and he would have to get used to it. But it didn’t mean that he couldn’t become a part of that, right?

“Dimitri, be careful!” A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him backwards. Dimitri came back to reality in time to note that he had been just a step away from walking off the dock. He turned around to see Flayn standing behind him, arms crossed and expression distraught. “If you wanted a bath, the sauna is open all day. But I presume that was not your intention.”

“Thank you, Flayn. I, ah, wasn’t paying very close attention, I’ll admit,” Dimitri said sheepishly, taking another step away from the edge of the dock. “I’m sorry to have worried you.”

“Do not apologize. Simply be more careful in the future,” Flayn said firmly. She met Dimitri’s gaze, and it felt like her piercing gaze was scouring his soul. It was no wonder she was related to Seteth. “Is something bothering you, Dimitri? You are always welcome to talk to me about it.” 

Dimitri hesitated, and Flayn smiled sweetly. “Come, let us sit together and talk. I have not had a chance to speak with you since your return, after all.” She took his hand and led him to the edge of the dock, then sat down criss-cross at the edge, partially defeating the point of sitting on the edge of the dock. Dimitri sat down next to her, letting his legs hang over the edge. “Now. What is bothering you?”

Something about Flayn’s innocent, wholesome voice compelled Dimitri to speak truthfully. “Everyone has changed immensely in the last five years. I am struggling to adjust.”

Flayn looked away for a moment, deep in thought. “I know what it is like to wake up to a world you do not recognize. It is terrifying and disorienting,” she said quietly.

“You know what it is like?” Dimitri asked.

“A-ah!” Flayn exclaimed, startled. “Ah, no, I mean that I can imagine what that must be like! After all, you have been away for so long, and these friends are so dear to you,” Flayn said quickly. “But surely, as much as things have changed, things have stayed the same, have they not? You are still a strong fighter and a kind-hearted individual who wants to save as many lives as possible. Even after five years, I still can claim to be your friend.”

Dimitri shook his head. “No, I am hardly that person anymore. I have grown weak, and I have taken so many lives. I am not kind.”

“Is that so? Then why is it that even now, you are trying to find a way to end this war?” Flayn asked stubbornly, hands on her hips. “You are a better person than you think you are. Some things about you have changed, but you are still the same person at your core. The same is true of everyone else here. Claude is still a mischievous tactical genius who keeps his cards close to his chest and looks after his own. Seteth is still an overprotective and nosy brother with good intentions. The professor is still a firm and steady hand that guides us all on the battlefield. War changes us all, but it does not change what we gained from that precious year we spent learning and growing together at the Academy.”

The determination in Flayn’s voice might have made Dimitri uncomfortable in other circumstances, but it was oddly comforting to him now. “Some things have stayed the same, hmm...” Dimitri thought about Ignatz’s timidness, and Leonie’s brashness, and Dedue’s patience, and Ashe’s enthusiasm. “I suppose you might be right about that, but adjusting to the changes is still difficult.”

Flayn nodded. “The adjustment will never cease to be difficult, I think. New things are innately uncomfortable, but change does not have to be a bad thing. You may feel lost from time to time, and you may feel as if the new world you have entered has no place for you, but that is indubitably false. You belong here with all of us, and we all wish to welcome you into the fold.”

Dimitri felt tears pricking his eye, and he swallowed hard. “I… see. Thank you, Flayn.”

“I am happy to help. Do not hesitate to reach out if your doubts continue to plague you. I have been training with Professor Manuela to become a warrior of the mind, and I will happily wield my sword,” Flayn said, standing up to strike a somewhat foolish-looking pose. Dimitri couldn’t help but laugh, but Flayn didn’t seem to mind. “Now, then. I must be off, but please do not walk into the lake. Ingrid would be most displeased.”

“I promise that I will not walk off the edge of the dock,” Dimitri said sheepishly, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

“Excellent. Good day, Dimitri.” Dimitri watched as Flayn walked off towards the town, a skip in her step, and her words lingered in his mind. There was still a place for him, was there? When he’d been in the kitchen, it had felt like he was the odd one out, and yet his friends had specifically invited him to help deliver the sweets when they very well could have done so without him. They were offering him a place, even if it wasn’t the one he was used to. He just had to take it.

“U-um, Dimitri, I, um.” Dimitri was pulled out of his thoughts by a timid and shaky voice. He looked up to find Ashe standing next to him, squirming uncomfortably. “Could we talk? About something a little serious?”

Dimitri blinked. It was not unusual for Ashe to approach him with such nervousness, but the boy was practically shaking. “Ashe, relax. You are welcome to discuss anything you’d like with me.”

“Okay. Okay.” Ashe sat down next to Dimitri, hugging his legs close to his chest. “I know I apologize a lot for a lot of things that I shouldn’t, and I sound like Ignatz when I do, but I’ve thought this one through.” Ashe gazed out at the lake, his hands fidgeting atop his knees. “I need to apologize. I’ve been talking to Dedue a lot lately about what it means to be a good friend. I have always admired you for your strength, and, well, you’re royalty and I’m just a commoner, and I didn’t know how to handle that at first. You seemed larger than life to me. You were so strong, and so noble, and so kind. You were everything I wanted to be.”

Ashe turned to Dimitri, his eyes full of a new strength and determination, the type that Dimitri saw when he talked about knights and chivalry. “I put you on a pedestal, and I never thought about how you could be going through so much more than what I saw, or how much pressure you must have been under to live up to the expectations that everyone had for you. I’m sorry. And if you’ll let me, I want to be a better friend to you. I want to treat you like an equal, like you were asking for all those years ago.” Ashe opened his fist to reveal a small pouch in the center. “If you, uh, are still okay with that.” He shoved the pouch in Dimitri’s direction and bowed his head.

Dimitri took the pouch and opened it slowly, his large hands fumbling with the neatly tied bow. Inside was a handful of sugar candies. “This is…”

“I tried to make the candies that you bought for me all those years ago. I thought maybe we could share them to show that I want to start over from square one,” Ashe said, head still bowed.

Dimitri laughed before he could stop himself. “Ashe. Raise your head. You said we should treat each other as equals, and yet here you are, bowing to me.”

Ashe’s ears and cheeks flushed bright red as he sat up straight. “I didn’t think about that,” he admitted sheepishly.

“You do not have anything to apologize for, Ashe. I am grateful to have a friend as thoughtful and kind-hearted as you.” Dimitri took one of the candies from the pouch and popped it into his mouth. He still couldn’t taste very strongly, but he imagined that it tasted sweet and pure. “Thank you, Ashe. It tastes wonderful.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Ashe said, the tension in his shoulders finally dissipating. “I, ah, actually wanted to ask for your advice on something that has been bothering me for a while.”

“I’ll do my best to help. What is the problem?” Dimitri asked.

“Ah, well. I think I might… want to marry Dedue?” Ashe said suddenly, his gaze firmly rooted to the ground. Dimitri nearly choked on his sugar candy. “I, I mean, only if Dedue also cares about me in that way, of course, but I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s always so kind and patient with me, and I love seeing him when he’s happy, and I--” Ashe stopped as his gaze met Dimitri’s, and his face flushed red. “I, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to gush about him. I just--”

“You care about him a great deal,” Dimitri said gently, putting a hand on Ashe’s shoulder. “This is something you should discuss with Dedue, is it not? Why come to me?”

“W-well…” Ashe sighed. “I have always wanted to be a knight like the ones in the stories, saving people and fighting for what’s right. But after the war, Dedue is going to dedicate his time to rebuilding Duscur.”

“Ah, and you do not think you can support him while also following your dream?” Dimitri guessed.

Ashe nodded miserably. “I want to be there to help Dedue. The thought of leaving his side again-- I can’t do it. But…”

Dimitri smiled. “The solution seems obvious enough to me. It seems like the job of a knight to serve as an ambassador between Duscur and the rest of Fodlan, ensuring that the rebuilding effort is supported and undertaken in good faith.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Ashe said, eyes sparkling with hope. “Do you think there will be a position like that?”

Dimitri nodded, although in reality, he hadn’t put any sort of thought into what the world would look like after the war. Professor Manuela had told him not to worry about it until after he had dealt with his current mental health problems. But remembering Claude’s smile, and his determination to find out what had happened at the Tragedy of Duscur, Dimitri was confident that Claude would find a way for Ashe to do both of the things he wanted. “I am sure of it, Ashe. Let Dedue know how you feel. He will be delighted.”

“Thank you, Dimitri. I feel a lot better now.” Ashe grinned, and Dimitri couldn’t help but smile, too. Ashe’s happiness was infectious. “Oh, I actually came out here to get you. The cookies have been put in the oven, and they’ll be done soon. Do you want to help with frosting them?”

“I--” Dimitri remembered the chaos of the kitchen, and how his heart ached to be a part of that chaos. “I would love to help, but I have never baked before.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not too hard, and Mercedes is a great teacher. She’ll show you the ropes,” Ashe said, standing up and dusting himself off. “Come on, she’ll be back soon.”

“Right.” Dimitri stood up, careful not to fall into the lake-- it would not do to break his promise with Flayn. As he followed Ashe back to the kitchens, he thought that maybe things were finally looking up.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Dimitri is a little naive. Things Are Not Looking Up Quite Yet.)


	10. Step 7.6: Actually Join the Army, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri despairs over how to talk to Edelgard. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing this fic, I did not expect it to become a Golden Deer route fic that spotlights all the characters except the Golden Deer. But here we are. I'm hoping to give the GD kids more love in future chapters.
> 
> One of these sections took me a really long time to write (the other two I knocked out in one attempt). I wonder if you can tell which one it was.

**Garland Moon, Day 14**

“I think you finally have the hang of stitching, Dimitri. Do you want to try and add a button on next?” Mercedes asked sweetly. Her approving smile upon seeing Dimitri’s messy sewing work made him irrationally happy.

“Yes, I’d like to try that,” Dimitri agreed, gazing down at his small square of cloth with some pride. He’d just been practicing stitches for the last few days, and he’d finally re-learned how to do the basics. It was good to have something distracting to do to pass the time, something other than training himself into the ground (which he was not going to do, or Ingrid would kill him).

“All right, here. Watch me carefully.” Mercedes placed her own project-- a very large blue sweater, too big to be for herself-- down on her lap and gently took Dimitri’s needle and thread from his outstretched hand. She slowly threaded the button and began to sew, occasionally glancing up at Dimitri to make sure he was watching. And he was, or he was trying, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the battle that lay ahead of them, and the one chance he had to try and end things without a fight.

“Mercedes,” Dimitri said suddenly, “if there was someone who you hadn’t seen in a long time, who was like a sibling to you once, but you thought they had done something deplorable, would you still...?” Dimitri faltered, and he had to take a breath to steady his voice. “Would you still be willing to reconnect with them after all that time?”

Mercedes hummed in thought, her hands still steadily sewing. “I would want to reconnect with them even more, I think. I’d want to know their side of the story, and of course, I’d just want to see them again.”

“And what if there was no justification for what they had done? What if they were irredeemable?”

“Nobody is irredeemable, Dimitri. Regretting your actions is the first step to making up for them.” Mercedes stopped sewing for a moment and slowly lowered her hands to her lap. “You know that we have all forgiven you, right? Even Felix has, although he takes a while to show it.”

“I-I know,” Dimitri stuttered, looking away from Mercedes’ kind expression, her piercing brown eyes. Somehow, she always seemed to know what he was thinking, and he could never escape her scrutiny. “I assure you, this is not about anyone here, not even Felix.”

“Well, I won’t pry. I don’t need to know who it is to know that they will want to talk to you again no matter what. They will be relieved to see how much you’ve recovered, too.” Mercedes said firmly, giving Dimitri a kind smile.

Dimitri started playing with the bedsheets to stop himself from wringing his hands. “What if… what if I cannot forgive them for how they have changed since we last spoke?”

“That’s a choice you get to make. You don’t have to forgive someone right away, or at all,” Mercedes said gently, setting both sewing projects aside on the desk nearby. She took Dimitri’s large, calloused hands in her gentle, soft ones. “It’s hard to care about someone who has become a person you do not approve of. It’s up to you to decide whether you still want to include them in your life. What do you want, Dimitri?”

“I… I do not know.” Dimitri tried to think about Edelgard, the person who had started this bloody war, and The Flame Emperor, who had let his parents and Glenn die, and El, who had been a dear friend. “I want to understand  _ why _ she would-- why she would let these things happen. But I am afraid that she will not be willing to talk to the person I’ve become.”

Mercedes squeezed Dimitri’s hands gently. “You’re not the same person you were two months ago, Dimitri. If she sees that, she might be willing to talk to you.”

“And if she isn’t?”

“It’s up to you how much you’re willing to try. I don’t know how important this person is to you, but I know that if I cared about someone, I would want to reach for them as long as I could, even if they never reached back,” Mercedes said slowly, her words measured.

“I… I see.” Dimitri let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Mercedes. For reaching for me.”

“Thank you for reaching back.” Mercedes smiled, and warmth filled Dimitri’s chest, replacing his anxiety. He was lucky to have a friend like Mercedes, he really was. When he was back on his feet, he ought to do something nice for her to show her how important she was. “Now, are you ready to try sewing on that button?”

**Garland Moon, Day 18**

Dimitri almost forgot to eat dinner. By the time he arrived at the dining hall, there were only a few people milling about, none of whom he felt comfortable talking to. So Dimitri grabbed a plate of food and ate alone, forcing each bite into his tumultuous stomach. He was having more trouble eating these days, as the thought of the upcoming battle made him nauseous and ill. He couldn’t stop dwelling on Edelgard-- on whether she could be negotiated with, or if there was no remnant of the person he’d known and befriended before. He wanted to reach for her, as everyone had done for him, but he didn’t know  _ how _ , or even if he  _ should _ .

“Are your bothersome ghosts milling about?” Dimitri blinked away his thoughts and looked up to find a very tired and uninterested Linhardt sitting down across from him. “If so, I suggest you ask them to leave. Caspar is joining us, and he is obnoxiously loud. Your ghosts would benefit from avoiding him.”

“A-ah, thank you,” Dimitri managed, but his response was completely lost on Linhardt, who had already put his head down on the table and dozed off. “Ah… he’s asleep…”

“Linhardt, you stupid idiot, you haven’t eaten dinner!” Caspar said, sliding two trays onto the table. He sat next to Linhardt and shook the boy by the shoulders with no restraint at all. “Come on, wake up!”

“Mmph, I’m awake,” Linhardt grumbled, sitting up. He eyed the food with distaste. “Must I waste the time to eat?”

“Yeah, man! Gotta keep up your strength!” Caspar said happily, patting Linhardt on the back just a little too hard. His gaze fell on Dimitri’s half-eaten food, and he frowned. “You, too, Dimitri! You gotta eat more than that, with how hard you’ve been training!”

“I-I’m trying my best,” Dimitri stuttered, unsure of how to handle Caspar’s enthusiasm. “You’ve been training very hard as well, haven’t you?”

Caspar nodded. “I’ve gotta be ready. Edelgard’s a tough opponent.” Caspar sighed. “Man, I used to look up to her, you know?”

“To Edelgard?” Dimitri asked.

“Yeah! She’s super strong, and I could never beat her in a fight,” Caspar said wistfully. “I needed that kind of strength to make my way in the world, so I used to try and match her strength. Not in a Ferdinand way, where I’d fight her all the time, but just kind of admiring from a distance.”

“Who knows what the future holds now. Claude’s Fodlan could will very likely be completely different,” Linhardt interjected nonchalantly as he scooped a spoonful of pudding into his mouth.

Caspar groaned. “I know! It’s like everything I’d thought I’d be doing in my future has been completely thrown out the window.”

Dimitri thought about Faerghus, and the throne that was supposed to be his. He hadn’t felt a strong attachment to the throne itself, necessarily, or to the prestige that it represented. For the longest time, his duty to his kingdom had meant first getting revenge for Duscur as a means of redeeming his people. Having talked to Manuela, and to Claude, and to his friends, he realized how narrow-sighted he’d been (although that didn’t make him want revenge any less). He wasn’t sure if he even deserved to hold the title of king anymore.

“Whatcha thinking about, Dimitri? You’ve been pretty quiet,” Caspar said, cocking his head to the side. “I guess your future isn’t really set in stone anymore, either.”

Dimitri hadn’t expected Caspar to be so perceptive. “It appears Edelgard has thrown both of our futures into disarray.”

“Yes, Edelgard certainly has a knack for that,” Linhardt said with a yawn. He put his head down on the table. “Caspar, I’m taking a nap. Wake me before you leave. Or don’t, I don’t care.”

Caspar rolled his eyes. “You’re always so tired. You should sleep more!” He then turned back to Dimitri. “For someone so driven and so smart, Edelgard sure can be pretty dense sometimes. I bet she couldn’t think of any other way to get what she wanted, aside from starting this dumb war. I always thought war would be glorious and exciting, but it’s really just a bunch of people dying for no reason. I didn’t expect it to be so… sad,” Caspar admitted, his voice dropping.

Dimitri swallowed his food harder than he intended. All he could think about was the people who’d died by his hands, the lives who were now his burden to carry forward. But Edelgard had much more blame than he did, which would make reaching her that much harder. “Caspar, I have a question for you. Do you think Edelgard can be convinced to end this war?”

“Mmmm…” Caspar shrugged. “She’s kind of stubborn. I don’t think she’d accept any other way than her own. She has this way of making everything about her and her grand ideas for reforming the nobility.” Caspar paused and gave Dimitri an incredulous look. “Wait, are you actually going to try and talk to her?”

Dimitri let out a heavy sigh. “I want to try. I believe that if you had asked Felix, or Ingrid, or Sylvain about me just a few months ago, they would have answered similarly to how you did for Edelgard. I want to believe that she can be reached, the same way I was.”

“Hmmm…” Caspar stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’m not really the smartest guy. Ferdinand or Lin might be better people to ask. But if you wanna know my gut feeling? I think you’re going to have to be ready for her to push back. Edelgard’s real critical of her mistakes, so there’s no way she doesn’t know how terrible this war has been, and she’s still pushing it forward anyway.”

“I thought as much,” Dimitri said evenly, holding down his disappointment.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it too much. All we can do now is put an end to this so we can save more lives,” Caspar said genuinely, his signature grin returning to his face. He glanced over at Lin and his smile morphed into something less bright and more fond. “I’m gonna carry Lin back to his room. But lemme know if you need anything, okay? You can count on me!”

“Thank you, Caspar.” Dimitri said. Caspar stood up, stacked Linhardt’s mostly full tray on top of his empty one, and in one smooth movement swept Linhardt’s body up and over one shoulder. Linhardt didn’t even stir. “See ya,” Caspar mouthed, and then he picked up the trays with his free hand and walked back towards the front of the dining hall to drop them off. The humorous sight did nothing to ease the knot of unease settling deep within Dimitri’s gut.

**Garland Moon, Day 24**

Dimitri’s morning had consisted of: 1) waking up from a nightmare about Edelgard transforming into a beast and slaughtering the whole army, 2) realizing he was late to war council, 3) running into war council a disheveled mess, and 4) eating two bread rolls for breakfast during war council, thoughtfully provided by Ashe. Needless to say, things had not gone particularly well. He thought Manuela might consider it a small victory, though, because Dimitri could not remember the last time he’d overslept. The fact was, he’d only slept in because he’d spent the last two days failing to sleep well, so it wasn’t a victory so much as a culmination of failures. And given that they were slated to march early the next morning, Dimitri did not want to be caught sleeping in again.

To help him sleep, and because he’d missed morning training, Dimitri decided to end the day with some light combat exercises to tire himself out. Dimitri headed to the training hall after the sun had set. Surprisingly, when he arrived, Felix was on his way out, and rather than fleeing as Dimitri expected, Felix blocked Dimitri’s entry with his arm.

“It’s bad form to stay up the night before the last battle,” Felix said sharply.

“Do not worry, Felix. Ingrid said that if I am not in bed by the time she goes to sleep, she is going to drag me back to the barracks by one ear,” Dimitri said, chuckling slightly at the memory of Ingrid very passionately confronting him as he’d left his room.

Felix and Dimitri shared a glance (and when was the last time they’d shared anything), and an understanding passed between them-- nobody messed with Ingrid.

Felix nodded, and withdrew his arm. As Dimitri passed by him, he suddenly said, “This better not be you falling back into your old routine. Running yourself into the ground.”

“I know.” Dimitri put a gentle hand on Felix’s shoulder, and Felix turned around, scowling. Dimitri tried his best to give Felix a reassuring smile. 

Felix scoffed, shrugged Dimitri’s hand off of his shoulder, and glared for a moment, silent. Finally, he said, “If you die again, I’ll kill you,” and then stormed off before Dimitri could form a response. Dimitri chuckled to himself. That was probably one of the better interactions he’d had with Felix in a long time. Did Felix actually care about him? It was hard to tell. Dimitri would ask Sylvain for his opinion later.

Dimitri walked into the training hall expecting it to be empty-- people usually gave Felix a pretty wide berth-- but he heard someone’s grunts of exertion as he walked through the doors. Dimitri grabbed a training lance from the sidelines, then cautiously wandered into the arena. A flash of maroon hair entered Dimitri’s field of vision, and he just narrowly stopped himself from walking straight into Petra as she sprinted across the length of the training hall and landed a somersault strike on a training dummy. If Dimitri hadn’t stopped himself, he probably would have been knocked down flat on his back.

“Ah! My apologies, Dimitri,” Petra cried out, rushing back to where Dimitri stood, dumbfounded. “Are you all right?”

Dimitri nodded, still a little stunned. “Yes, I’m fine. I simply did not expect anyone to be here.”

“Yes, it is late, and we will be marching tomorrow morning,” Petra agreed. “I like to train before sleeping, but I am finishing up soon. Would you like to spar?”

Dimitri hadn’t sparred with Petra at all during their academy days, despite her renowned fighting capabilities. He’d mostly trained alone, or with Dedue. It would be nice to fight someone he knew less about. “It would be my pleasure.”

Petra chuckled. “You Fodlan nobles are always so formal in your speech. I will never get used to it.” She held her sword out in front of her. “Shall we dance?”

Petra, it turned out, really did fight like a dancer. Her footwork was graceful, even moreso than Felix’s, and Dimitri was forced into a defending role for a majority of the fight. His strength was enough to counter Petra’s speed, but only barely so-- he constantly had to block her quick attacks, and it was hard to tell where she would be next with his lessened depth perception. It took Dimitri some time to find an opening to attack back, but when he did, he was able to force her to her knees. Petra smiled and bowed her head. “That was a good fight. You are just as strong as everyone is saying.”

“And you were quite skillful as well. It is a wonder I managed to emerge victorious,” Dimitri said, reaching out a hand to Petra.

Petra shook her head and took his hand, pulling herself to her feet. “You deserved the victory. I can tell you are fighting with passion. Something is weighing heavily on your mind, pushing you to fight with strength.”

Dimitri swallowed hard. Thoughts of Edelgard, and what he could possibly say to her, and what he  _ should _ say to her, kept floating around in his head. Even a quick spar couldn’t disrupt the constant stream of worries about what lay ahead of him in the coming days. “I will admit, I am anxious about the upcoming battle. I am conflicted about what I should do.”

“You are joining us and fighting Edelgard, yes? That is what Claude has told us,” Petra said, confusion tinting her voice.

“It is my duty as the to-be king of Faerghus to kill her and end this war, and to avenge those who fell in the Tragedy of Duscur, but I...” Dimitri hesitated. “I cannot help but selfishly hope that there is some way to reason with her. To end this peacefully, without having to take her life.”

“Ah. I am understanding now.” Petra sighed deeply. “I, too, wish that Edelgard would see reason. Her war has killed many and has endangered my people. And yet, Edelgard was so kind to me when I was first brought here. I cannot hate her for what she has done. I know she believes that it is the right thing to do.” Petra looked up at Dimitri, her expression troubled. “I am not wanting to kill her, either.”

Dimitri’s heart sank. He could see it in Petra’s expression-- she didn’t see another way out of this. She, too, knew Edelgard would not be swayed. Guilt rose in Dimitri’s throat-- guilt at forcing Petra to share his anxiety. “I am sorry. I should not have brought it up.”

Petra shook her head. “No. You are part of this army. Your problems are our problems.” Petra put a comforting hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, her grip firm and her gaze steady. “Dimitri. I understand what you are feeling right now. It is tough, balancing what is right and what is our duty with what we want. All of these years, I have been in Fodlan for the sake of my people, doing my duty, but it was not easy. Fodlan was a strange land to me, but I had to try my best to be doing what I could to support Brigid.”

“You are truly admirable, Petra. I am not as strong as you. When my duty conflicts with my ideals, I cannot make the choice so easily,” Dimitri said bitterly.

“You are misunderstanding what I am saying. I am always prioritizing what is my duty to my people, but I am wishing that I could do something different. That is why, when this war started, I joined Claude’s army. It will help my people in the long term, but it is also what I wanted to do,” Petra said, her voice steely with determination. “If you wish to show Edelgard reason, I will support you in trying it. Know that you are not the only one wanting this, Dimitri, and you are not carrying this burden alone. I do not want to kill Edelgard unless we must, and I believe Claude feels the same way. You can see it in the way he is looking at war council meetings. We will be there, backing you up during the battle.” Petra posed with her sword menacingly, as if to prove her point. “You will have nothing to be worrying about. Do what your heart tells you is your duty.”

Dimitri felt tears coming to his eye, though from guilt or relief he wasn’t quite sure. He sniffed his tears back and forced a shaky smile. “Thank you, Petra. That means a lot, truly. I will try my best.”


	11. Step 8: There is No Turning Back Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri tries to talk to Edelgard. It goes about as well as one would expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even tell if this update is sooner than usual or just about on schedule, but here it is! I apologize in advance; my life has been super hectic these last couple of weeks. I started a new job on the first of the month, and my aunt passed away two weeks ago, so I've been hard pressed to find time to write. I'll be moving out of one home and in to another next month, which promises to throw even more chaos and responsibility onto my plate, so it might be a little while until I can get the next chapter out. Thanks for reading, y'all, and I hope you're taking care of yourselves!

**Garland Moon, Day 29**

“Hmm, there are more enemies inside the palace than I thought,” Claude said, looking around calmly at the troops in front of them.

“Yeah, you  _ think _ ?” Ingrid cried out, swerving to avoid an arrow. “Goddess, Claude, you better have a plan to get us out of this one!”

“Stay calm,” Byleth said, voice as neutral as ever.

Claude nodded, and turned to face the army. “It’s going to take a lot to bring this situation under control. But if we defeat Edelgard, victory is ours. Dimitri’s going in first to try and talk to her and make her see reason, but we’ve got to be ready to back him up. Everyone with me?”

“Yeah! Claude Squad, let’s roll out!” Hilda said with a grin.

Lorenz groaned in disgust. “Must you call us that?” he asked, although his expression betrayed his amusement.

“Of course,” Hilda said, and then swiftly beaned an Imperial soldier in the head without batting an eye.

“The throne room is straight ahead. That is undoubtedly where Edelgard will be,” Ferdinand said confidently as he speared a soldier with his lance.

Dimitri shoved two soldiers aside with his lance so he could get a better look at the door ahead of them, but Claude was one step ahead; he flew over the heads of the foot soldiers to the door. “Annette, Lysithea, cover him,” Professor Byleth said without even looking up from their own fight. “Ferdinand, Ingrid, watch the rear. Caspar, Leonie, deal with the left. Felix, Raphael, deal with the right.”

“Our bashful little emperor has locked herself up behind the door of the throne room. The key should be around here somewhere. We need to find whoever's got it and take them out,” Claude called out from across the room.

Linhardt yawned and sidled up to Dimitri casually, sidestepping the fallen enemy bodies all around him. “I can get you in there, but you won’t have any backup.”

Dimitri glanced over at the professor, who gave a thumbs up with one hand while firing off a spell with the other. “All right. Thank you.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Linhardt said, but he waved his hand and Dimitri began to glow green. He blinked, and suddenly he was in the throne room. Edelgard was sitting calmly on her throne, her giant relic axe sitting beside her.

“Hmph, this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to see you of all people here, Dimitri.” Edelgard stood up, one hand on her axe’s handle. “Not going to scream for my head this time?”

Dimitri gritted his teeth. “I… have learned the error of my ways, thanks to the professor and Claude.”

“So, you’ve teamed up with Claude, then? No matter. I won’t let either of you stand in my way.” Edelgard gripped her axe as if to wield it.

“Wait! I came here to talk,” Dimitri said, holding his hands up in surrender. He was tempted to place his lance on the floor, but he knew he’d die without it. “I want to ask you something. The Tragedy of Duscur. Did you know about it beforehand?”

Edelgard scoffed as she sauntered down the steps, dragging her axe behind her effortlessly. “I don’t understand why you’re so intent on tying me to that incident. I was still a child, just like you.”

“I saw the Flame Emperor there,” Dimitri said, his voice trembling. “I saw you there. Your mask—”

“A mask can be worn by many different people,” Edelgard said, swinging her axe upwards so it rested on her shoulder. “Is that all you came to ask? Surely the answer was obvious to you.”

“Wait. Edelgard—” Dimitri abruptly stopped talking as Edelgard charged at him and swung her axe cleanly. He raised his lance to block the blow just in time, his whole body shaking from the impact. “There must be another way that doesn’t lead to so many casualties.”

“This is the only path, and the one I’ve chosen.” Edelgard swung again, not even flinching as Dimitri blocked her axe again. “No matter how many may die in this war, many more are victim to this system of Crests and nobility. Someone has to end this cycle of misery, and I will do whatever it takes.” Edelgard struck twice more, forcing Dimitri into a defensive pattern: strike, block, strike, block.

Dimitri’s breath was beginning to come in short bursts, but he shouted even as he moved his lance to block each of Edelgard’s blows. “Claude is trying to end this cycle, as well. There is no need to fight this war to realize your ideals. Rgh!” Dimitri grunted as Edelgard swiped at his shoulder, nicking his skin and drawing blood. He jumped back to recover his footing. “People aren’t as strong as you think they are. This war has torn people apart, rather than motivating them.”

Edelgard gave Dimitri no time to recover, immediately closing the distance between them. Her axe clashed against Dimitri’s lance once more, sparks flying from the friction. Their weapons locked as both warriors held their ground. “This war has given people something to believe in.” 

“A war like this just pushes your ideals onto other people. That won’t change anyone.” Dimitri leaned forward so his face was mere inches from Edelgard’s, holding his lance steady against her axe. “People must rise up and conquer their own problems. You can provide them your help, and your strength, but you cannot vanquish their demons for them. I realize that now.”

“You’re a fool if you think the people can rise up as they are. A highborn like you could never understand the poor people or what motivates them,” Edelgard replied, unfazed. She pushed through the friction, forcing Dimitri to stumble backwards. Dimitri lost his footing and almost fell, but a pair of firm brown hands caught him, steadying him.

“I think you’re forgetting something, Empress,” Claude said, drawing his bow with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Behind him, the door sat open, and the professor stood in the doorway, key in hand. “No matter what you’ve been through, or how hard your life has been… you’re a highborn, too.”

Edelgard narrowed her eyes and raised her axe again, but didn’t attack quite yet. “And you would have me entrust Fodlan’s future to the both of you— to a prince who cannot defend his own kingdom, and a foreigner who has no loyalty to this land?”

Claude snorted and began to circle Edelgard, his bow still trained firmly on her. “I may not be from Fodlan, but I’ve got one thing you don’t.”

“And what’s that?” Edelgard challenged.

Claude’s eyes shined with determination, and he smiled tensely. “The ability to listen to others. It’s clear Dimitri’s words haven’t reached you at all.”

Edelgard scoffed. “I have listened to the suffering of my people under the goddess’s reign. I watched my peers lose everything they had to the Crest system. The church must be destroyed!”

At that, Edelgard ran towards Claude, and Byleth sped by Dimitri to block the attack. Relic screeched against Relic as Byleth caught Edelgard’s axe with their sword. “Ah, my teacher. This truly is a class reunion. If only it were on better terms. But you must understand, I will never give up. Even if my arms and legs failed me, I would still find a way to move forward. I will smash that false goddess and her minion into the ground! I will fight to free this world from her vile grasp!”

Claude sighed and hopped back onto his wyvern. “Well, we did our best. Hopefully our dear emperor speaks the language of strength.”

Dimitri steadied his hands on his lance and took a fighting stance. “I am right behind you, Claude.”

~*~

Dimitri didn’t hear anything Edelgard said in her final moments. He could hear words being said, but they didn’t quite make sense to him. Even as his blood rushed in his ears and his breath came in short spurts and sweat dotted his skin, thoughts raced through his head, clouding his ability to hear. Had he done enough? Had he tried his hardest, truly? Could he have done anything different to save her? Was it enough?

As the professor raised his sword, all Dimitri could see was the little girl he had once met, who had been startled when he’d gifted her a dagger.

Dimitri looked away, eye closed.

~*~

(And that is why he didn’t see the young head of the Alliance looking at him, a complex mix of thoughtfulness, confusion, and concern on his face.)

~*~

After days of sleeping in tents and trekking back to Garreg Mach, Dimitri wanted nothing more than to collapse into his bed and sleep for days. And yet he knew that he would not be able to fall asleep, haunted by the image of Edelgard’s last moments on top of his usual ghosts. Dimitri opened the door to his dorm room and was immediately ambushed by a hug from Annette. Dimitri didn’t realize how much he needed it until he instinctively melted into her arms and began to cry.

After a few moments, Annette released her grip and stepped back a little bashfully. “I, um, sorry if that was too much. You just looked like you needed it.”

“It’s all right,” Dimitri said, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand, and then he stepped into the room. The normally dark room was illuminated by a few candles in each corner of the room, which Mercedes was in the process of lighting with fire magic. Dedue and Ingrid were laying sleeping bags out on the floor, and Sylvain appeared to be building some sort of pillow and blanket fort while Felix groaned in disgust. Ashe had placed a pot on Dimitri’s desk and was doling soup out into small bowls. “What… what is this?”

“I thought it might be nice not to be alone tonight, so I organized this. U-um, but, tell me if this is too much, and we can all leave!” Annette said quickly, looking adorably flustered.

Dimitri almost felt like laughing. He didn’t even know what to say. To think that anyone would do this for him…

“Hey, what’s with that look?” Annette said, cheeks puffed out in annoyance. “We all care about you! Isn’t that obvious?”

“Annie, you’re overwhelming him.” Mercedes walked over to Dimitri and wrapped him in a blanket.

Annette took a deep breath. “Sorry, sorry. I just… want you to know that just because we joined the professor’s class doesn’t mean you stopped being our friend and our leader, Dimitri. We didn’t think we’d be picking our side in a war, you know?”

“Thank you,” Dimitri said, his voice shaking as he tried to hold his tears back. He was so tired, so drained, and this… this was exactly what he needed.

“Here. Sit on the bed and eat some soup,” Mercedes said, leading Dimitri over to the bed.. “By the time you finish, Ingrid and Dedue will probably be done setting up the sleeping arrangements.”

“We’d be done already, if Sylvain didn’t keep stealing all the pillows!” Ingrid said, giving Sylvain a pointed look.

“Oh, did you need a pillow, Ingrid? Here ya go.” And with a shit-eating grin on his face, Sylvain chucked a pillow directly at Ingrid’s head.

Ingrid gave Sylvain the scariest glare in the world and stood up, pillows in hand. “Sylvain, I am going to kill you with my own two hands!” she yelled as she threw one pillow at him and dashed towards him with the other outstretched, ready to hit him. Sylvain overturned one of the mattresses on the floor to use as a shield. Felix tried to walk away, but Sylvain dragged him behind the mattress.

“H-hey! Careful not to knock over the soup!” Ashe cried out.

“Ashe, can you help me move the sleeping bags out of their way?” Dedue said with a sigh, and Ashe immediately scrambled over to help, leaving Mercedes to hand Dimitri a bowl of soup.

Dimitri sat down on the bed and ate his soup slowly, watching as Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix hit each other with pillows. Annette, Ashe, and Dedue surrounded them, trying to prevent them from setting anything on fire or knocking anything over. Dimitri couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight of his friends acting like they hadn’t just been a part of the worst fight for their lives.

Maybe things weren’t okay today, but here, sitting in this room, surrounded by his friends, Dimitri knew that they would be, one day.

~*~

Claude didn’t necessarily believe in the goddess Sothis, but if she existed, she deserved a thousand thanks for compelling Dimitri to go to bed early upon returning to Garreg Mach, because that meant he wasn’t around to see a carriage pull up in front of the monastery bearing a lone banner with the Crest of Fraldarius on it. “I wondered when we were going to hear back from our Faerghus friends. It’s been a couple months since we sent Gilbert back to the Kingdom,” Claude mused.

“What do you think he’s here for? Surely he has his hands full handling Imperial soldiers in his own territories,” Lorenz said, shaking his head incredulously.

“Wellllll, if everything went according to Claude’s plan, then Dimitri being alive and sighted at Enbarr has turned the tide of the war in Faerghus,” Hilda remarked casually, yawning. “I’ll leave this one to you boys. I’m no fan of diplomacy.”

Lorenz rolled his eyes and muttered something about lies under his breath, and Claude stifled a laugh. “Hilda, you were  _ born _ for diplomacy.”

Hilda groaned dramatically. “Ugh, fine, I’ll stay here with you both, but you owe me.”

“On second thought, perhaps you should leave,” Lorenz said, and Hilda smirked.

“Nope, too late for that one, Lorenz. You’re stuck with me now!”

Claude raised a hand, and Hilda and Lorenz fell silent instantly as a broad-shouldered man wearing furs that could only be from Faerghus walked silently up the steps, accompanied by only two foot soldiers. “Claude von Riegan. I hear you were victorious in Enbarr.”

“We were, Duke Fraldarius,” Claude said stiffly, imitating the man’s formal tone. “Is that what’s brought you all the way out here?”

The duke shook his head. “I’ve had my hands full these last few years, but your recent pressure on the Empire has forced them to withdraw their troops up north, giving me some time to continue some of my own side projects.” The duke paused, his steely eyes meeting Claude’s. “I’m here for Dimitri. It is time that he took his rightful place as the king of Faerghus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end, y'all! I have two or three more chapters planned, although I've never been one to actually stick to my outlines, so maybe there's more to this story that needs to be written. We'll see what happens.
> 
> A note on Edelgard: when I drafted this story, I couldn't figure out a good way to address Dimitri's recovery and Edelgard's redemption without taking on too much for me to chew, so this was the best I could come up with. I have been thinking about ways that this war could have resolved peacefully, but none of those ways quite fit within the bounds of this story. Hopefully, this is a satisfactory end to this particular part of Dimitri's character arc.


	12. Step 9, Part 1: Rodrigue is Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodrigue is here, and he brought a friend. Uh, well, not REALLY a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to prioritize getting the next bits of the story to y'all over chunking this "perfectly." In other words, I'm breaking the Blue Sea Moon month into multiple chapters as I post it, and I'll smush them back together after I've posted the last bit. That way, y'all can get more regular (but shorter) updates!
> 
> In other news, you'll notice that this fic is now part of a series! I realized as I was looking through my draft that I just had unposted bits and pieces written in Byleth's point of view, pieces that didn't really fit thematically in this fic. So now there's a companion fic, Paving The Way Home, which shows some of Claude's and Byleth's behind-the-scenes work that Dimitri isn't seeing. I also have plans (?) to write other one-shots in this series. Although this particular fic focuses on Dimitri's healing, I envision this rewritten VW route as having the potential to be healing for everyone.
> 
> Okay, now on to the chapter, thanks for reading!

**Blue Sea Moon, Day 5**

The first thing Dimitri noticed when he woke up was that Felix and Sylvain were missing, and Claude was sitting at his desk reading a book. Dimitri opened his mouth to ask any of the many questions on his mind, and then he remembered that the rest of his classmates were still sleeping on the floor. As Dimitri shuffled in his bed to sit up, Claude looked over at him and gestured to the door, a finger to his lips. He then stood up silently and tiptoed around the sleeping bags on the floor towards the door. Dimitri clumsily tried his best to follow, tripping once on Ashe’s legs and nearly falling flat on his face. He thought he saw Claude standing at the door, stifling a laugh, but when he looked up, Claude wasn’t there, having already stepped through the door. Dimitri sighed, gathered himself, and finished his perilous journey across the sleeping bag-riddled floor.

Claude waited for him outside, his book still perched in one hand. Dimitri waited until he had carefully and quietly closed the door behind him before finally speaking. “What is going on?” he asked.

“What, maybe I just wanted to join the sleepover,” Claude said with a grin, his eyes flitting back to the door for a moment. “That was very cute, by the way. I’m glad Annette was able to get everyone organized.”

“Ah, it was Annette who organized everything? I shall be sure to thank her again,” Dimitri said, and then frowned. “Hold on. Do not distract me, Claude. Why were you in my room? And where are Felix and Sylvain?”

Claude ran his free hand through his hair with a sigh. “Last night, Duke Fraldarius arrived. I figured you and Felix might want to hear it from me first before seeing him. Felix immediately bolted to his room, and Sylvain is either helping Felix barricade the door or trying to cajole Felix out of his room, I’m not sure which. Anyway, he brought someone with him who you might want to hear from, so drop by the war council room after you get ready for the morning, okay?”

Dimitri nodded, then frowned as he noticed for the first time the dark circles under Claude’s eyes. “Claude, did you sleep at all last night?” he asked.

“Aw, are you worried about me, your Royalness?” Claude winked. “Make sure you eat something before you come by, okay? Otherwise, the duke will think I’ve been a bad parent.”

Dimitri spluttered, unable to come up with a coherent response before Claude walked away. His curiosity piqued, Dimitri quickly changed out of his PJs, taking great pains to avoid waking any of his friends, and grabbed a braided pastry from the dining hall before walking to the war council room. His stomach rolled with anxiety as he thought about all the different things that could be waiting for him this morning, but he forced himself to eat for Claude’s sake. By the time Dimitri arrived at the war council room, he was fidgety and he had only managed to stomach half of the pastry. He tossed the rest out, took a deep breath, and walked into the room.

Professor Byleth, Claude, Rodrigue, Hilda, Lorenz, and surprisingly, Dedue were in the room already. Hilda was eating a pastry and drinking tea at the table, as if there wasn’t a prisoner kneeling on the floor, his arms cuffed behind his back. The professor was leaning against the back wall, letting Rodrigue and Claude handle the prisoner more closely. Lorenz had a scroll and quill out, presumably taking notes. Dedue was standing next to Rodrigue, his expression closed off. Rodrigue was giving the prisoner a menacing look, but his expression softened when he saw Dimitri enter the room. “It has been too long, your Highness. It is nice to see you in better health and spirits.”

Dimitri smiled despite his nerves. “It is good to see you, too, Rodrigue. I have missed you dearly. How is Faerghus faring?”

“With your repeated victories in Empire lands, we have managed to regain momentum up north and are now turning the tide. When I left to journey down here, Margrave Gautier and Gilbert had united their forces to retake Fhirdiad. Their victory is all but assured,” Rodrigue said, a smile on his face for a brief moment. He turned back to the prisoner, and his expression turned grim. “This man was captured during a skirmish with Viscount Kleiman’s forces. He claims that he and his lord were involved in the Tragedy of Duscur. I do not know how credible his testimony is, although it seems that Claude has done his own research into the events of Duscur.”

Claude nodded. “I’ve been looking into it since we talked, and I have some theories, but it will be nice to have some testimony to work with. The decision for how to handle this interrogation, and what to do with this prisoner, ultimately lies in your hands.”

“I see.” Dimitri’s stomach churned as he looked at the man, and for an instant, he felt a strong desire to kill the man where he stood. He closed his eye and pushed it down. “Speak, then. Tell us your story.”

“I only did what I believed was right. I swear to the goddess that I'm not lying.” The prisoner trembled and raised his hands in symbolic surrender. “Amidst the turmoil of the tragedy, Lady Patricia was supposed to be the only one who was unharmed. We had been given orders ahead of time to not approach her carriage…”

“Was Patricia an accomplice?” Byleth asked, pushing themself up into a standing position and strolling over to the prisoner.

“What would my stepmother have had to gain from such a…” Dimitri trailed off, seeing the grim expression on Claude’s face.

“Sylvain and Ingrid sent out letters to their parents, and I consulted with Ferdinand as well to poll his sources of information from the Empire. It’s very likely that your stepmother… Lady Patricia… was aware of the plot,” Claude said.

“I did my own investigation as well among the lords who defected from the Empire. It seems Cornelia may have also conspired with Lady Patricia against the king,” Rodrigue added gently. “Dimitri, I know that this is hard for you to acknowledge, but--”

“No, I…” Dimitri’s throat closed up, and he struggled to get words out. “I wish to hear what this man has to say. Continue.”

The prisoner looked to Rodrigue, who nodded, so he spoke again, his voice quiet. “My lord had long felt that King Lambert's radical ways were dangerous. At the time, he was approached with an offer to take part in the incident at Duscur... My lord loves his homeland. To me, he embodied justice. We were only doing what we thought was right.”

Dimitri’s blood boiled and for a moment, he imagined strangling the man in front of him. “You murdered your own king, killed our soldiers, and involved innocent citizens. And yet you have the gall to speak of justice?”

In front of him, the prisoner bowed his head, trembling. “I am only standing before you now because I could no longer bear the weight of my sins.”

Dimitri didn’t notice that his whole body was shaking with anger until Byleth put a gentle hand on his shoulder, grounding him. Dimitri took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Anger wouldn’t do him well here, even if it was deserved. 

He thought about Edelgard, and how she had started a war for her justice. He thought about his own actions only months prior, wherein he had been convinced that killing her and all who helped her would bring justice for the dead. Yet it had only taken a graciously offered opportunity to heal and reflect for him to see through his hollow ideas of justice. Perhaps this soldier deserved that chance. And yet...

Dimitri’s gaze flickered to Dedue, who had been completely silent during the entire conversation. Dedue was always a hard person to read, but Dimitri was shocked to see traces of bitterness, even full-on anger, on Dedue’s face. At that moment, he made a decision.

“Dedue.”

Any other person might not have noticed Dedue stiffen slightly at the mention of his name. “Is something the matter?”

“The Tragedy of Duscur… or, rather, this uprising that led to my parents’ death also led to the annihilation of your people. If the survivors of Duscur are ever going to trust us again, I believe the first step is to let them-- and you-- have an active role in handling the true perpetrators.” Dimitri bit his lip, seeing the dismay in Rodrigue’s expression, but then he glanced at Claude, and for just a moment, he saw shock flit across his face, so he added, “I… I do not mean to pressure you with this. If you want me to handle the decision, I will.”

“I…” Dedue gave Dimitri a hesitant look. “Dimitri, are you sure about this?”

Dimitri nodded. “This is far more your right than my own.”

“Thank you,” Dedue said, sounding more grateful than Dimitri had ever heard him in his life. He turned back to the prisoner. “Do you regret your actions?”

“I accept your hatred, and even the punishment of death, but I still believe it was a massacre in the name of justice,” the prisoner said, his head still bowed. “I believe that what we did was for the good of Faerghus.”

“And what of my people, and my nation?” Dedue continued, his voice stone cold.

Hearing the ice in Dedue’s voice, the prisoner squirmed uncomfortably. “Someone else had to take the blame. It didn’t have to be the people of Duscur, but--”

“But it was,” Dedue finished, and then turned away. “Dimitri, my belief is that this man is not capable of learning from his mistakes. He has shown no remorse for my people; we are simply side characters to him in this quest for justice.”

Dimitri nodded at Dedue. “Thank you, my friend,” he said quietly, taking Dedue’s hand in his and squeezing it firmly. Dedue relaxed a little and squeezed back. Dimitri let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He turned back to the prisoner.

“Rodrigue, see to it that this man is executed at the first opportunity,” Dimitri said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I would not want him to escape his punishment.”

“It will be done,” Rodrigue said. “Guards, take him away.” Two soldiers standing at the entrance of the room walked over, forced the prisoner to his feet, and took him away. Rodrigue waited until the prisoner was gone before turning back to Dimitri, his expression gentle. “Dimitri, I know that was not easy for you to do.”

Dimitri shook his head. “Truthfully, I, too, wished to see him dead. I wish to see all of the perpetrators dead.” Dimitri clenched his fists. “But I cannot believe that they deserve death without thinking that I, too, deserve to be killed for my own crimes.” 

“Dimitri--” Rodrigue began, but Dimitri held up a finger.

“What Dedue said is correct. That man has had years to learn from his crimes. Were he truly remorseful, he would have tried to act, or find some way to make amends. And this is, I hope, where I differ from him.” Dimitri looked down at his hands. If he looked hard enough, he could see the scars that littered them, the blood that had once covered them. “I wished to be dead for a long time. To join my family once I had brought them justice through revenge. But I understand now that justice for my family requires more than just the deaths of their killers. And repenting for my crimes requires me to live on and honor the lives of those I took.”

“Well, personally, I would have liked to interrogate the guy a bit more, but I think I have a good idea of what happened anyway,” Claude said with his usual playful demeanor.

“You do?” Dimitri asked, unable to hide his shock.

“I told you I’d look into it, didn’t I?” Claude winked. “Lorenz, show him my beautiful diagram.”

Lorenz rolled his eyes. “I would not call it beautiful in the slightest, Claude, but it does get the job done.” He handed a piece of parchment-- one from the many in his stack-- to Dimitri. “This is what we’ve managed to work out so far. Any of the dotted lines are based on guesses rather than pure fact.”

The diagram on the paper was quite messy, as Lorenz had warned. Among all of the arrows were circles with words written in them in large, bolded letters. Each circle represented a faction, it seemed-- The Alliance, Faerghan nobility who were fighting Cornelia, Faerghan nobility who had surrendered to Cornelia, The Church, The Empire, and… Dimitri blinked, wondering if perhaps he was seeing things wrong, but, no, there was a circle simply labeled, “???” In the center of the page was a flowchart of boxes that described the events of the Tragedy: “King Lambert travels to Duscur for negotiations,” “The royal entourage is killed,” “Duscur is wiped out in response.” There were labeled arrows connecting each of the factions to each other and to the event boxes, too many for Dimitri to read easily without rotating and moving the paper around. Notably, there were arrows from the ??? faction pointing to each of the boxes, speculating about what this mystery faction might have been doing behind the scenes.

“So you believe that the Faerghan nobility who deferred to Cornelia are the same who sent men to attack my family, and that this… mystery faction sent mages as well? And this mystery faction was also supporting the Empire during the war, and caused those javelins of light to fall from the sky, destroying Fort Merceus?” Dimitri summarized, handing the diagram to Dedue in case he wanted a better look.

“Oh, shoot, I didn’t update the diagram. Sorry, it’s been a busy night. We now have a name for our mystery faction: those who slither in the dark,” Claude said, and Hilda groaned audibly.

“What kind of name is that? That’s hardly better than calling them the mystery faction,” Hilda pointed out.

Claude shrugged. “That’s what Hubert called them, and what Rhea called them when I asked her about it. I’m planning on talking to her more later, once she’s recovered, and then maybe I’ll get some real information out of her. But in the meantime, that’s what we’ve got. We’re heading out this month to go to their home base, or at least what Hubert has told us is their home base. It’s a long story, I’ll fill you guys in later.”

“Yeah you will, because you haven’t slept at all since the battle yesterday, and Leonie gets to hang you by your thumbs for an hour if you don’t take a nap before midday today!” Hilda said cheerily. “Personally, I’d love to see that happen, but I get the feeling it would ruin army productivity for the day.”

“I have to agree with Hilda on this one, Claude. You need your rest,” Lorenz said, stacking up the rest of the documents on the table. “Hilda and I will handle the rest of your responsibilities for the day.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, mother hens,” Claude grumbled. Seeing Dimitri’s aghast expression, Claude added, “Hey, this was more important than a little bit of sleep.”

“I… suppose,” Dimitri conceded. “Thank you, Claude, for finding the truth for us. It puts my mind at ease to finally have some answers.”

“Sure thing. Now you owe me a favor,” Claude said with a wink, and then Hilda hooked her arm through his and forcefully started dragging him towards the door to the war council room. “Hilda!” Claude whined, and the two started bantering as they left the room.

“Dedue, are you all right?” Dimitri asked, turning with a guilty expression on his face. “I wanted to give you an opportunity, but I realize now that it may have been offered in poor taste. It is not your job to judge those who have harmed you.”

Dedue shook his head. “Dimitri, do not worry. What you have done for me today was more than I ever expected to have.”

“If I may, you ought to raise your expectations,” Lorenz said, and Dimitri and Dedue both whirled around to face him. “Many of the future world’s leaders are here in this army. Just look at the sheer number of nobles who have been your classmates! Surely, you can at least expect to be treated as an equal by your classmates, yes?”

“I did not mean to imply that I did not trust my classmates,” Dedue said, shame creeping into his voice.

“Ah, I believe you misunderstand. I fully believe that you trust all of us.” Lorenz paused for a moment, his gaze drifting to the door. “Perhaps Claude would be a good example, here. He has built these bonds with all of us, and now that he can trust us to stand by him, he insists on pushing us to consider a future outside of the one we had assumed would come to pass. He expects us to rise to the challenge and help him build a world where he can be accepted as our equal, without any regard for his race or his origin. It is my belief that you would benefit from doing the same. I admit, it is not my place to say one way or the other, but give it some thought.”

Dimitri hadn’t expected such advice from Lorenz of all people, and apparently neither had Dedue, because he stood there, shocked, unsure of what to say in response. “You may be right,” Dedue said finally, his voice still faint with surprise, “that I should expect more from the people around me.”

“You should, Dedue!” Dimitri jumped in, eager to show his support. “Please, if there is anything I can do to support you, I will do it. You only need to say the word.”

“Thank you,” Dedue said, suddenly looking overwhelmed.

“Give yourself some time to process everything that has happened today,” Rodrigue said, stepping forward. Dimitri had almost forgotten he was there, and the anxiety bloomed in his chest anew. “Both of you,” he added, looking at Dimitri with a pointed expression. “There are other matters that need discussing, but they can wait.”

Dimitri had to stop himself from sighing in relief. He didn’t think he could take any more serious conversations today. “Thank you, Rodrigue.” And then he moved without thinking, running over to Rodrigue and wrapping his arms around Rodrigue’s waist. Rodrigue reciprocated the hug, his strong arms holding Dimitri easily (and oh, Dimitri missed being held). “I am glad to see that you are alive,” Dimitri whispered.

“The feeling is mutual, I assure you,” Rodrigue said quietly, stroking Dimitri’s hair gently. “The feeling is mutual.”


	13. Step 9, Part 2: The Elephant in the Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri is finally confronted by the elephant in the room, AKA the throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been mostly written for a long time, but I kept trying to make it perfect. And then I decided that writing is a work in progress and perfection is overrated, so here you go! Maybe not my best writing, or the smoothest, but it gets the job done. The next chunk is in a similar state, so maybe if I get struck by inspiration, it will come early. Or, you know, it'll come at the same snail's pace that I've been publishing at. Thanks for reading, y'all!

**Blue Sea Moon, Day 6**

_ Fire raged around Dimitri. He could hear swords clashing against each other, friends and family crying out in pain. And yet his young body was paralyzed with fear, unable to move. Somewhere to his left, his father cried out in agony as a shapeless shadow-- no, now it was one of Viscount Kleiman’s men-- lodged an axe in his shoulder. Somewhere to his right, Glenn screamed as the flames consumed his flesh, leaving nary a trace of his existence behind. And in front of him, looming above him, was his mother, an evil grin on her face. “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes meeting Dimitri’s, except her schlera were black and her eyes were solid red. “This is all according to plan. I can’t wait to reunite with my real family.” Patricia raised a sword with both of her hands. _

_ “No,” Dimitri whispered, shaking his head. He tried to stand, but his whole body was shaking. “No, no! Mother, please!” _

_ And then the sword came down, and there was a splatter of blood, and-- _

Dimitri woke up that morning and knew immediately that it was not going to be a good day. Dry tear tracks stained his face, and his eyes still burned from crying. He must have had a nightmare, although he luckily couldn’t remember the details. Still, he felt empty, like a part of him was missing. He didn’t want to get out of bed.

He spent a few minutes staring at the ceiling as faint hunger pangs plagued his stomach. He had eaten dinner the night before, but he hadn’t been too hungry after eating the sweets that the others had baked, so he hadn’t eaten too much. And then he’d sparred with Ingrid, taken a bath, and come to bed, so it made sense that he was hungry. But… was he hungry enough to get up? Dimitri glanced over at the door, his vision blurring with sleep as he estimated the distance between his bed and the entryway. No, he wasn’t hungry enough yet, and exhaustion was quickly settling in again. Maybe he could get more sleep. Dimitri rolled over in his bed, burying his head under the covers to block the sunlight streaming in through the window. He was supposed to spar with Dedue this morning, but he was sure Dedue wouldn’t mind if he slept instead.

Dimitri wasn’t sure how much time passed before he woke up again. The world outside his window looked brighter, but he felt more lethargic than before. Had it been a few minutes? A few hours? He still felt empty. His ghosts flitted around the edges of his vision, unbothered by the sunlight streaming through his window-- all the more shadows for them to hide in. Dimitri closed his eye again. He didn’t feel like listening to his ghosts today. He was so tired. Did he have something to do today? He thought he did, but he wasn’t sure. It was hard to remember.

Dimitri only became aware that he’d dozed off when he woke up with a sudden start, his head pounding dully as he sat up in bed. Another nightmare, this one also just beyond his grasp. He remembered a battle, and blood, and screams, but nothing specific. All he knew was that his head was hurting, and his body was shivering ever so slightly despite the warmth of his room and the thin layer of sweat that coated his face. Dimitri flopped back onto his mattress, groaning quietly. He was so, so tired. Why was he this tired? He’d been doing everything right. Yesterday had been fine.

Someone knocked on his door, and Dimitri’s pulse quickened instinctively. He had to take a deep breath to remind himself that it was fine, and someone was probably just coming to check up on him rather than reprimand him. He cleared his throat and said, quieter than he intended, “Come in.” Even those two words required so much energy that he didn’t have.

“I, um, I know what it’s like to want your own time-- I mean, I like being in my room a-and all, and, u-um-- I don’t want to intrude,” the high-pitched, panicked voice of Bernadetta said through the door, stumbling over her words. “A-a-and, well, talking through the door is more comforting to me, if that’s, um, okay.”

Dimitri didn’t expect to be relieved at the thought of being alone in his space, and yet the tension left his shoulders and he almost smiled at Bernadetta’s thoughtfulness. “That is fine with me,” he called out.

“Bernie made you something, so, um…” The door opened just a crack, and a small parcel flew into the room before the door shut again. 

Dimitri forced himself to stand, every muscle aching in protest as he walked over to the door. He knelt down to pick up the package, and his tired body instinctively sat against the door. He folded his knees to his chest and rested the package on top as he unfolded the wrapping carefully. Inside were three eyepatches, all beautifully hand-woven. One was black like the one he wore, one was white like the fur on his cape, and the last was a royal blue to match Faerghus’ colors. All three were gilded with gold thread around the edge. “These are beautiful,” Dimitri said, quietly enough that for a moment, he worried that his voice hadn’t carried through the door.

“I’m glad you like them. I, um, thought it would be nice to have choices.” There was the sound of scuffling, as if Bernadetta was shifting around nervously. “I only just now got the chance to finish them, so, um, I hope they’re useful.” There’s a pause, and Dimitri thinks that perhaps Bernadetta has left, but then her squeaky voice comes through the door once more. “I was scared of you at first, hopelessly terrified, really, because you’re just so big and strong, and I couldn’t even look at you without running away-- oh, and now you must be angry at me, right? I’m so sorry, I know I really am scared of everything! Please forgive me!”

Dimitri chuckled softly and shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Bernadetta. After seeing me fight at Gronder Field, you had plenty of reasons to be terrified.”

“W-well, um, I was watching you talk to everyone else, and I realized that, well, maybe you and I are more similar than I thought. Like, um, you need your alone time, too! A-and, you’re scared of talking to people because you’re worried about what they’ll think about you, right?” Bernadetta paused, and then quickly added, “A-ah, maybe I’m overstepping, oh, now I’ve done it.”

Dimitri thought about his first time talking to Sylvain, to Ingrid, to Felix after five years. It had been his first time showing them his true self, not the princely facade he’d spent so long trying to build. Felix had never fallen for it, of course, but that didn’t change the fear Dimitri had felt-- fear of being rejected, of being hated for who he really was. “You might be right about that. Perhaps we are not so different. But if that is true, you ought to try talking to others more frequently. Everyone here has been much more understanding than I could have ever hoped for.”

“I’ve, um, I’ve been trying recently. A-and, that’s why, I thought, maybe we could, um, talk? More?” Bernadetta suggested meekly.

“Of course. It would be nice to get to know you better,” Dimitri said, and he really meant it. Exhausted as he was, he thought Bernadetta might be the only one who would understand how much he wanted to be alone, and take a break.

“There was one other thing that I noticed, a-and Professor Manuela said I should talk to you about it because it might help both of us.” Bernadetta let out a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice did not shake for the first time since she’d approached the door. “I think you and I are both hurting from our past, and we both take it out on ourselves. So maybe we can work on that together, like, um, recovery buddies?”

“Recovery buddies,” Dimitri repeated, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Y-yeah! Mercedes said you were learning to sew, s-so, I, um, I could teach you that too, and we could talk!” Bernadetta said, and Dimitri was surprised to hear that she sounded not scared, but excited.

Dimitri looked down at the eye patches in his hand. It would be nice, he thought, to know how to make some of his own. “Yes, that sounds wonderful. We can hold each other accountable as we try to overcome our pain from our past.”

“Okay!” Dimitri heard more shuffling, as if Bernadetta had gotten to her feet. “W-well, um, I know you need your alone time, so I’ll leave, but Ingrid said you should get something to eat once you feel up to it, or she’ll break down your door and make you. And Ingrid is really good at breaking doors!”

“Yes, I suppose she is. Thank you, Bernadetta. I will eat soon,” Dimitri said.

~*~

Dimitri was walking to the dining hall when he spotted Rodrigue coming around the corner. Before he could think of a good excuse, or avoid the conversation, Rodrigue caught his eye and waved. An inexplicable pit formed in his stomach, and he suddenly had a hard time swallowing.

“Ah, Dimitri! Are you feeling better today?” Rodrigue asked, a gentle smile on his face.

Dimitri nodded. “Yes, I am. I did not realize how… difficult it would be to face the truth,” he said stiffly. In the corner of his eye, his mother’s ghost cackled. He tried to ignore it.

“Well, if you are up to it, I was hoping that we could talk. It has been quite some time since we have had a proper conversation, after all,” Rodrigue said.

Dimitri knew that he should have said no. He knew that he needed to go to the dining hall to eat. But hearing the hope in Rodrigue’s voice brought on a sharp pang of guilt. All through the war, he had neglected to reach out to the closest person he had to a father figure; he hadn’t even told the man that he’d been alive. He owed him this much, at least. “Yes, of course.”

Rodrigue began to walk towards the gardens, and Dimitri walked alongside him, forcing himself to focus on the words that Rodrigue was saying. “Gilbert contacted me after the battle at Gronder and told me that you had been captured by Claude’s army, and Claude had offered his support to our forces in retaking Faerghus. I will admit, I was angry at Gilbert for giving you up so easily, but it seems that your time here has done you some good.”

Dimitri had never, not once, thought about how his recovery might have looked from the outside. Only now did it occur to him that Claude had taken quite the risk by holding the future king of Faerghus as his prisoner of war. “It was not as serious as it may have looked, I assure you. Claude never treated me as a prisoner. Everyone here has been kinder to me than I deserve.”

“So I have heard. Ingrid and Sylvain have filled me in on some of the things that occurred while you were here, although they did not tell me everything. They seem to have great faith in Claude’s abilities to carry Fodlan into a new age of acceptance and harmony.” The corners of Rodrigue’s mouth quirked down into a slight frown. “I cannot help but notice, however, that none of their discussions of the future seemed to include you in them.” Rodrigue stopped walking and turned to Dimitri. “Dimitri, do you not intend to take the throne?”

Dimitri’s mouth went dry, and all of his words left him. His stomach churned at the mention of the throne, of the kingdom, of  _ responsibility _ . But it was his duty, was it not? Had he not recovered for the sake of his people? Were they not waiting for him to lead?

“Duke Fraldarius, do you have a moment?” a sharp voice cut in, and a shorter, nimble figure inserted itself between Dimitri and Rodrigue. “Hi, I’m Leonie Pinelli. I’m not sure if we’ve met formally yet. I dropped by to let you know that we’ve finally convinced Felix to stop avoiding you, and he’s giving you an hour starting now to convince him that you’re worth listening to. If I were you, I’d put this conversation on pause and go to his room. That’s where he’s waiting for you.”

Rodrigue let out an exasperated sigh and ran his hand through his hair. “Dimitri, do you mind if we continue this later?”

“N-not at all,” Dimitri managed, still partly frozen in fear.

“All right. Give it some thought, and let me know when you have made your decision.” Rodrigue turned to Leonie. “Thank you for telling me about Felix.”

Leonie waited until Rodrigue had walked out of sight to speak again. “You’re welcome, by the way. And before you pull any guilt nonsense, Felix agreed to stall for you, and the professor is paying him back with a spar this afternoon, so you don’t owe him any favors. And we’ve got Ignatz and Marianne lined up to show Rodrigue his paintings and offer a free family portrait this afternoon. After that, Raphael and Felix are going to spar, and Felix is going to guilt Rodrigue into watching. Then, Lysithea, Lorenz, and Ferdinand have a politics discussion planned. You have all day to think this over.”

“You all… planned this?” Dimitri said, too dumbfounded to formulate more coherent words.

“We’re in  _ Claude’s _ army, remember? Contingency plans are kind of our thing. Ingrid and Sylvain had been stalling ‘till now, but they wanted to give you a chance to stand on your own and see if we needed to step back in.” Leonie gave Dimitri a thumbs up. “We’ve got your back. So, what are you going to do?”

Dimitri gave Leonie a blank look.

“The throne? Faerghus?” Leonie put her hands on her hips. “Would it help you to talk it through to someone who has no stake in the matter either way?”

“Ah. Yes.” Dimitri nodded numbly. The fear had settled in and matured into despair, embracing him like a Faerghus snowstorm. “Yes, that would be nice.”

“Great. Have you eaten yet?” Leonie asked, and Dimitri shook his head. “Great. I’ve already eaten, but we can talk while you eat.” Leonie started walking towards the dining hall without waiting for a response, and Dimitri followed her despite his growing nausea. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to stomach anything.

The dining hall wasn’t too busy. It was mid-afternoon, so the only people around were the late eaters— those who had forgotten to eat, like Annette, and those who didn’t care to eat, like Linhardt. Dimitri spotted the pair sitting at a table, with Annette frantically talking Linhardt’s ear off, and decided not to bother them. He grabbed a tray of food and joined Leonie at a relatively empty table in the corner. “Now then, talk me through what you’re thinking,” Leonie said, folding her hands and resting her chin on top.

“Up until now, I had not considered what lay in store for me after this war came to an end. And now, to think that I may take the throne…” Dimitri swallowed hard. “It is my duty to be the king of Faerghus and ensure the best for my people. Yet all I have done is fail them for the last five years, and commit unspeakable acts that are unbefitting of my station. I hardly deserve to be king.”

“And do you  _ want _ to be king?” Leonie asked.

“Does it matter? Whether I want it or not, it is what I was born to do,” Dimitri said, confused by Leonie’s question. “I must take the throne.”

“Okay, but let’s say you  _ didn _ ’ _ t _ take the throne. Would you be happier?”

Dimitri furrowed his eyebrows. “Did you not hear me? That isn’t an option.”

Leonie frowned. “Let me ask you something else, then. What makes you think you don’t deserve the throne?”

“I have killed so many without regard for their lives. I have single-mindedly focused on revenge with no second thought to my people. I have brought shame to Faerghus, and my kingdom has crumbled in my absence,” Dimitri said, voice growing louder with each sentence. “The people of Faerghus deserve someone who can lift them up. I have not been that person, and I...” Dimitri thought of his ghosts, his nightmares, and how  _ tired _ he was. “Truthfully, I am not sure that I can  _ be _ that person.”

“I think you’re selling yourself a little short here. Maybe you’re not that person now, but you could be, one day. I think the more important question is, do you  _ want _ to be that person? And even more importantly, is that really what Faerghus needs right now?” Leonie said sharply. “I’m no noble, and I’m no ruler, but when my village was facing problems, we worked with what we had, and we were flexible. Everyone pitched in with what they had to give, instead of trying to give what they didn’t have.”

“I see…”

“I don’t know that you  _ do _ see.” Leonie leaned back in her seat, mouth pursed in a dissatisfied frown. “Do you know why I want to be a mercenary?”

“To be like Jeralt was?” Dimitri guessed, using the little bit of knowledge about Leonie that he had.

Leonie shook her head. “It’s not that simple. I want to be like Jeralt, sure, but that’s because he was the first person to ever care about my small village. He was the first person who ever protected us. His strength was inspiring to me when I was younger, and I’ll admit, I wanted to be like him because I thought he was cool.” Leonie laughed, a little embarrassed. “But it’s more than that. As a mercenary, Jeralt was a free agent. He wasn’t bound to any one person’s or country’s ideas of what was right and wrong. He got to decide for himself what path he wanted to take. I want to be able to do that! I want to move outside the system and help people in the ways that the system can’t.” Leonie turned back to Dimitri, a determined look on her face. “There’s more than one way to achieve a dream, you know?”

“More than one way…”

“So. I think what you need to do is figure out what your goals are, and figure out the different ways to achieve them. And if you decide that taking the throne is the best way to get to where you want to go, then do it. But if you find that there’s a better way, then do that instead.” Leonie grinned. “Stop worrying about all that stupid Faerghus loyalty and duty and stuff, and just think about  _ you _ for one moment. Trust me, it will be worth it.”

Dimitri wanted to curl up in a ball in the face of Leonie’s intensity. He was saved from saying anything further by Leonie standing up abruptly. “Seteth!” she called, waving to someone (presumably Seteth) behind Dimitri. A short moment later, the tall, solemn man walked over to their table, one eyebrow raised.

“Leonie. Is there something you needed from me?” Seteth asked.

“Yeah, can you finish this conversation with Dimitri? I just saw Lysithea running across the courtyard in a panic and I think she might need my help,” Leonie said quickly, and then sprinted off before Seteth could even agree to her proposal.

Seteth watched Leonie run away, eyebrows furrowed, and then sat down across from Dimitri. “I do have some spare time, so I can lend you an ear. What were you discussing with Leonie?”

“Uh.” Dimitri blinked, his slower-than-usual brain having trouble processing everything that just happened. “My goals?”

“Ah, wonderful. Manuela has been meaning to have this conversation with you for a while, anyway. While I may not be as thoroughly aware of your situation as she is, I may be able to provide you support nonetheless.” Seteth glanced down at the untouched food on Dimitri’s plate. “First, might I suggest that you eat your food before it gets cold?”

Dimitri nodded and took a bite robotically. As usual, he tasted nothing, and he didn’t feel hungry, but he was starting to feel a little dizzy, and a few bites of food seemed to help a little bit.

“Now, then. What are your goals after the war, Dimitri? And I ask that you think of your goals specifically, rather than trying to envision your goals for Faerghus as a nation,” Seteth said calmly, almost officially, as if he was a doctor like Manuela. And, thinking back on what Sylvain had said about Seteth’s therapy sessions, maybe he was.

“I... don’t know,” Dimitri admitted, looking down at his food. “Until now, I was living for the dead, doing what I thought would best appease them. Professor Manuela suggested that I live for myself, but I don’t believe I deserve that courtesy.” Dimitri poked at his mashed potatoes with his spoon. “I feel as though I have committed unspeakable acts that can never be forgiven, yet I must seek that forgiveness if I am to be able to move forward.”

“And whose forgiveness do you seek, exactly?” Seteth asked.

“I…” Dimitri trailed off as his mind failed to supply him with any answers. “My people?”

“I’m sure they would be happy to welcome you as their king without any sort of reparations. People in Faerghus do accept their ruler’s actions without question, do they not?” Seteth said.

Dimitri thought about Gilbert’s willingness to follow him to Gronder, and all the other troops who marched alongside him in that battle. He thought about Ingrid’s idealizing of loyalty, and Ashe’s reverence for him. “Yes, I suppose they do, but I still deserve to pay for my sins in one way or another.”

Seteth nodded, his mouth set in a thin line. “So perhaps it is your own forgiveness you are seeking, then. You will not be able to stride into your future confidently until you can accept yourself for who you are and forgive yourself for your mistakes. You will have to change this perception of yourself as an irredeemable person.”

Dimitri shook his head. “No, I— I do not deserve to give myself such benefit of the doubt without first proving to myself that I can be trusted.”

“Hmm.” Seteth folded his hands on the table. “How do you propose to prove this to yourself?”

“I must prove that I can serve my people by taking the throne,” Dimitri said, although even as the words left his mouth, his throat began to constrict.

Seteth frowned. “With such self-doubt in your mind, do you believe you will be able to rule Faerghus?”

Dimitri tried to speak, but his voice wouldn’t come. Only then did he notice the tears gathering in the corner of his eye.

Seteth sighed, his expression softening. “You must forgive yourself before you can move on. By no means am I saying that everything you have done is morally right or justifiable, but it is in the past. Dwelling on your mistakes does not always help you rectify them in the future.” Seteth hesitated. “Truthfully, Manuela and I both believe that you should prioritize your own healing over your duty to the throne.”

“But—”

Seteth raised a hand. “Let me speak my piece. I understand that it is unconventional, but we have been discussing at length what would be necessary for the people of Fodlan to truly recover from this war and move forward, and one of our conclusions from watching over you all is that the emphasis of the nobility on duty has created an unhappy and fractured noble class. It does no good to anyone if everyone is silently suffering behind closed doors and putting on royal airs in public. But I suppose that is another discussion.” Seteth shook his head. “If you do not take the throne now, you would have the time you required to heal and rediscover your personal priorities. It is then that you will be of the greatest help to your people, and to Fodlan at large.”

“I…” Dimitri’s voice wavered, and he took a sip of water before speaking again. “I will give it some thought,” he said finally.

Seteth nodded. “Please do. And I am certain that Claude has taken this particular dilemma into consideration, so I would suggest that you speak with him on the matter as well. He is bound to have his own opinions on what the government of Faerghus should look like once this war is over.”

“Claude…?” Dimitri hadn’t thought too deeply about what Claude wanted for Faerghus. What did Claude gain from sparing him at Gronder Field, if not a chance to restore Dimitri to the throne and have him solve Faerghus’ problems?

Actually, what  _ did _ Claude gain from saving him? Dimitri had never asked.

Seteth gave Dimitri a knowing smile. “Yes, Claude does worry about you from time to time, even if he does not voice his concern directly. He is quite the busy man, but he is excellent at making time to help others. Ah, speaking of which, I have my own business to return to, if you are feeling a little better?”

Dimitri nodded quickly. “Yes, I— yes, thank you, Seteth. Your words have helped me a great deal.”

“Of course. Please feel welcome to talk with me whenever you would like, and I will make time for you,” Seteth said, and then he stood up. “Ah, and I suggest you finish the food on your plate. Ingrid did not seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Ah.” Dimitri glanced down at his mostly full tray of food. “I will.”

“Farewell.” Seteth walked away briskly, and Dimitri watched for a few moments before returning to his food. He was hardly hungry. Perhaps he’d take the meal back to his room and eat there. Yes, that would give him a chance to think, as well.

As Dimitri walked back to his room, his thoughts drifted back to Leonie’s words. There was more than one way to achieve a goal, she had said quite adamantly. And Seteth had insisted that Dimitri live for himself, rather than for his people, because this would help his people more in the long run. And yet the yoke of duty was not so easily shrugged off, was it? If Dimitri did not take the throne immediately, Faerghus would continue to suffer under the indecisive reign of temporary governments until it decayed beyond repair.

“Careful, Your Royalness. You could knock a man down with how quickly you’re walking.” Claude’s voice rang through the air, snapping Dimitri out of his thoughts. He looked up to find Claude standing in front of him, barely inches away, a grin on his face.

Dimitri stepped back, startled, and his face flushed red. “I am deeply sorry. I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings.”

“Maybe I’ll forgive you if you share what had you so deep in thought,” Claude said with a wink, slinging his arm around Dimitri’s shoulder. He began to walk, leading Dimitri along, towards the dormitories; of  _ course _ he knew where Dimitri had been heading.

“Now that we have captured Enbarr, the tide is turning in Faerghus. It is only a matter of time until Fhirdiad is recaptured and I am sent for to take the throne. I am prepared to accept my duty, and yet...” Dimitri sighed deeply. “I do not think I will be the most effective king. I do not want Faerghus to fall apart even more because of my own inadequacy.”

“Hmm…” Claude stroked his chin with his free hand. “Would you mind if I brought this up during war council tomorrow, just among our classmates? I have a plan in the works, one that may set your mind at ease and help you decide what to do here.”

Dimitri bit his lip. “I am worried that Rodrigue may misunderstand my reservations.”

“Leave Rodrigue to me. I’ll win him over with my charm,” Claude said, sweeping his arm dramatically. The two of them reached Dimitri’s room, and Claude patted Dimitri on the shoulder. “All right, here we are. You just get some rest, and let me take it from here.”

“Are you sure that I am not asking too much of you?” Dimitri asked, frowning.

“I guess you owe me two favors, now,” Claude said with a grin. “See you tomorrow morning!”

As Claude waltzed away, Dimitri wondered if he should be worried about what Claude had planned.


	14. Step 9, Part 3: A Whole New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude executes his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'll be honest I didn't expect to publish this so soon but I could literally write this forever so I'm letting it take flight. We're also at the end of my writing buffer and the end of my outline, so the next update is going to be even slower than usual, but we're nearing the end... of this fic, at least >:]
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always!

**Blue Sea Moon, Day 7**

“All right.” Claude stood at the head of the table, his hands folded. “Thank you all for coming, and thank you for bearing with me thus far. I know that I have a lot of far-fetched ideas, but I ask that you bear with me once more. I want to try something.”

“Claude, you should know by now that we’re with you,” Ignatz said.

“Yeah! Your wacky ideas haven’t killed us thus far!” Hilda chimed in, earning herself a jab in the ribs from Claude.

“This one has a zero percent chance of being lethal,” Claude said, rolling his eyes. “It’s just a little… out there. I want everyone to close their eyes.”

“One step ahead of you,” Linhardt said with a yawn, his head already down on the table.

“Linhardt, you ought not to sleep during war council meetings,” Ferdinand chided.

“You might actually enjoy this exercise, Linhardt. All you have to do is sit and think,” Claude said with a wry smile. “All right. Everyone, eyes closed?” Dimitri looked around, realized everyone else had already closed their eyes, and quickly closed his own. “Okay. I want everyone to take a moment and imagine what kind of world you want to live in. Don’t constrain yourself based on what you think the world  _ can _ be like, or what the world  _ currently _ is like. Just focus on what the world  _ could _ be, in its best form, in a perfect society.”

Dimitri wasn’t sure he could do such a thing. All he could think about, all that kept coming back to him, was the thought that his ideal world didn’t exist, that things could never be good for him again. He took a deep breath and gently pushed that thought out of his mind. Okay, a world he would want to live in. What would that look like? His friends would be there, and they would be happy. The dead would be at peace. The people of Duscur would be accepted in broader Faerghus society despite their different customs and way of life. There would be peace and prosperity for all.

“I want to challenge you,” Claude said, his voice floating through the air, “not to think within the boundaries of Fodlan, and what currently exists. Imagine that there is no Faerghus, no Alliance, no Empire. Forget, for a moment, the systems of government and institutions that hold us in place. If there were no borders, and no countries, what would the perfect world look like?”

No Faerghus? Dimitri couldn’t even conceptualize such a place, not at first. He tried to think about what such a world would be like. What could be improved, if Faerghus was not its own distinct governmental entity? Perhaps the acceptance of others would come easier, and people would not feel so beholden to authority figures. No, even more than that, Dimitri could walk among the commonfolk without standing out, without feeling eyes on him all the time, looking in awe, worshipping him when he did not deserve it, praising him for things he did not do. And that… might be nice.

“Okay. Let’s come back together. Everyone open your eyes.” Dimitri opened his eye and found that Hilda was now standing in front of the chalkboard, holding a piece of chalk at the ready. “Hilda has volunteered to be our scribe for the day. Now, what did people see? What are some qualities of the perfect world?”

“It’s peaceful,” Manuela piped up, a remorseful look on her face. “No more war.”

Claude nodded. “That’s a good start.” On the chalkboard, Hilda wrote the word  _ peaceful _ . “Who else?”

“Nobody goes hungry,” Raphael declared, and across the table, Dorothea nodded in agreement.

“Nobody goes hungry,” she repeated, “and nobody is without a home.” Hilda added  _ everyone has basic needs _ to the list. “Yes, exactly,” Dorothea said, and Hilda gave her a wink and a thumbs up.

“Everyone has the freedom to do whatever they want, no matter what family they were born in to,” Ignatz said, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“And no matter whether they have a Crest or not,” Sylvain added, and Ingrid nodded next to him. Ignatz’s face brightened up at seeing other people agree with him.

“Hear hear,” Linhardt said very unenthusiastically, his head still resting on the table.

_ Freedom to be whatever we want, no matter birth, status, or Crest _ , Hilda wrote, and then frowned. “I don’t know a shorter way to say this.”

“Eh, sometimes more is best,” Claude said with a shrug.

“That is definitely not how the saying goes,” Lysithea cut in, and she and Claude proceeded to very maturely stick their tongues out at each other.

“I would like to be able to do my research without worrying about whether or not I can profit off it. Knowledge is something to be gained and shared rather than to be commodified,” Linhardt said. 

“Are you suggesting we throw out the economy?” Ferdinand asked, lips pursed.

“Sure, why not? Money is a fool’s invention,” Linhardt said indifferently.

“Um, hmm, how about…” Hilda added a bullet point under the last item and wrote,  _ freedom to do whatever we want without worrying about money _ , and then,  _ down with the economy? _ next to it.

“Down with the economy!” Caspar shouted, pumping his fist into the air.

“I, ah, don’t know that it’s practical to do away with the entire economy as a whole,” Lorenz interjected.

“We’re not dealing in practicalities right now, remember?” Claude said with a grin. “This is purely a thought experiment. And hey, maybe the ideal world doesn’t have an economy, who knows?”

“Claude, the ideal world has to have  _ some _ form of economy,” Lorenz said, unamused. “However, I do agree that, in an ideal world, one’s well-being and happiness should not be reliant on monetary gain or occupation of choice.”

Hilda underlined  _ down with the economy _ , and then wrote next to it,  _ Lorenz approves! _ Lorenz rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his face.

“I think we should get rid of the nobility while we’re at it,” Leonie said brazenly, and Ferdinand frowned.

“Are you saying that nobility cannot exist in your ideal world, or that social stratification based on wealth is the issue?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Both,” Leonie said stubbornly, refusing to back down.

Ferdinand hummed in dissatisfaction. “If your ideal world does not include nobility in it,” Ferdinand said finally, “then it is worth reexamining how I can shift my understanding of what I as a noble should do to better reflect my intentions. I will have to think about this further.”

Leonie instinctively looked at Lorenz, who simply shrugged. “Perhaps, in an ideal world, it would be unnecessary to use social status as a means of allocating duties because we would all care for each other mutually, as friends.” Leonie stared at him, slack-jawed. “What? I have been listening to you prattle on for moons about the inadequacies of the nobility. It would be remiss of me not to reflect on your words.”

Hilda grinned mischievously. “Wow, Lorenz! You’re all grown up,” she said, and wrote  _ down with the nobility? Lorenz approves! _

“Hilda, please stop twisting my words,” Lorenz said politely.

“Request denied,” Hilda said sweetly, and added another exclamation mark to the board for good measure.

“As much as I love watching Lorenz squirm, it’s probably better to be a little more intentional with our wording,” Claude pointed out, and Hilda pouted.

“Fine, fine. How about this?” She erased the last two lines and wrote,  _ no social stratification based on wealth _ and  _ no superiority complexes allowed _ . “There, better?”

Claude tried not to laugh, but his eyes sparkled as they always did when he was amused. “Sure, it’ll do. Who else wants to add to the list?”

“I, um, would like the animals to be happy,” Marianne said quietly.

“You got it, babe,” Hilda said, and then wrote,  _ the animals are happy, Marianne demands it _ .

“Actually, this may not be exactly what Marianne meant, but I think that there’s a lot we can learn from places like Brigid and Almyra, where they are more careful to use every part of the animals they hunt and they rotate the crops in their fields,” Ashe said thoughtfully. “Oh, ah, correct me if I’m wrong, Petra.”

Petra nodded. “I am thinking the same thing. For me, a perfect world is, what is the word… sustainable.”

“Ooh, good one!” Hilda added  _ sustainable hunting/farming/cooking techniques _ to the list.

“And another thing I am thinking is that all people would be seen as equal, no matter what culture they are from, or where they live,” Petra added, looking over at Dedue, who smiled.

Claude nodded. “Yeah, that’s an important one. Add it to the list, Hilda.”

“Roger that, boss,” Hilda said playfully, and she added  _ no discrimination based on culture, race, or heritage _ . “Let’s see, who hasn’t talked yet? Felix, have anything to add?”

“Ask someone else.”

“Aw, come on, Fe, surely there’s something missing from the list,” Sylvain said, poking Felix in the shoulder.

Felix scowled and crossed his arms. “Fine. I wouldn’t have to use my sword because there would be nothing dangerous to fight.” Sylvain stared at Felix, dumbfounded, and Ingrid whipped around in her seat to look at him. “What? I’m only strong because I have to be,” Felix said indignantly, his cheeks flushing red.

Hilda paused for a moment, cocking her head to the side, and then added  _ everyone is safe _ to the list. “Good?”

“Yes,” Felix mumbled, still blushing.

“Dimitri, you look like you want to say something,” Claude said, his piercing gaze seeing straight through Dimitri’s puzzled expression as always. “What is it?”

“I, ah…” Dimitri paused, trying to collect his thoughts. He thought about the way people in Faerghus looked at Dedue, and the way that Felix looked at him, and suddenly, he understood something. “I believe that in order for people to feel safe, there must be mutual trust between everyone involved. Everyone must believe that nobody harbors any malice towards anyone else.”

Claude nodded. “I agree. Everyone must believe that everyone else is working towards the same common good, and with the same good intentions.”

“You don’t see a lot of that nowadays, I’m afraid,” Judith lamented from her spot near the head of the table.

“Doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” Claude shot back, and Hilda wrote  _ and there is mutual trust in each other _ next to her previous bullet point. “Well, this is shaping up to be a good list,” Claude said, looking back at the blackboard with satisfaction. “Now, what do we need to do to get from where we are--” Claude gestured to the room around him. “--to this?” Claude pointed to the chalkboard.

There was a brief silence as everyone in the room took a moment to digest Claude’s words, and then--

“Claude, surely you cannot believe that--”

“There’s no way Fodlan could become something like that!”

“You weren’t kidding when you said that this exercise of yours was going to be out there.”

“I know, I know, I just asked a really tough question,” Claude said, hands raised in surrender. “But honestly, think about it. As the victors of this war, it falls to us to carry Fodlan forward into peace. The Empire is currently without an emperor, the Kingdom has been without a king for the last five years, and the war clearly proved that the Alliance’s form of government was inflexible and insufficient. We have the perfect chance here to use this as an opportunity to try something new, something that brings us closer to our ideal world. I know it seems crazy, but just look at us. We’re all from different places across Fodlan, or outside of it, even. And yet our ideas of a perfect world are not so different from each other. Of course, I’ll admit that I don’t know the Empire and Kingdom as well as I know the Alliance, so I don’t know what this would look like yet.”

“And that is where we come in, correct?” Ferdinand stroked his chin thoughtfully. “To be quite honest, I cannot imagine a reality where the Empire adopts a system that fits these values, but perhaps I should think bigger.”

“Faerghus is also very set in its ways. It will take time to push the Kingdom to, as Ferdinand said, think bigger,” Dimitri mused. “But I do not believe that it is impossible. I agree that this is what we should keep in mind as we develop our plan for the future of Fodlan.”

“This list is dreadfully similar to what Edie wanted,” Dorothea said mournfully.

Claude nodded. “It is. But the way she was going about it only took into account a small percent of the population’s needs. Even if everyone shares the same vision, we have to be smart about the different ways that we bring people along with us. It’s going to take a different approach to get buy-in from nobles than it will to get support from commoners, for example. And it’s going to take time.”

“Well, you’ve got my support!” Raphael said enthusiastically. “Me and my muscles will back you the whole way.”

“Same here. Just tell me what to do, and I’ve got you covered,” Caspar said, giving Claude a thumbs up and a grin.

“I-I-I, u-um…” Bernadetta quaked in her chair as she spoke, and instinctively, everyone fell silent to give her the space to speak. “I want to help, too. I-I don’t know what it w-will take, b-but… count Bernie in!”

Ferdinand gave Bernadetta a gentle smile and a pat on the back. “I am sure your help will be needed. The Empire is in quite a state, and it will take all hands on deck to rebuild it into… something new.”

“I hate to say it, Claude, but you’ve piqued my interest,” Linhardt said, sitting up. “Although it will be quite tiresome and tedious to move the Empire nobility to agree with anything, really.”

“We  _ are _ the Empire nobility, you know,” Ferdinand said.

“With the number of nobles we have in the room, we might actually be able to pull off something here. But I bet that’s what you wanted, fearless leader?” Sylvain asked casually, hands folded behind his head. 

Claude smiled his usual playful smile. “I’ll keep you guessing on that one, Sylvain.”

“I must ask, Claude, what role does the church play in this new world of yours?” Seteth asked, stroking his chin.

“Of mine? You misunderstand, Seteth. This is  _ our _ new world. And the church fits wherever it makes the most sense. The question we should all be asking now is, is the church doing what we need it to do? And if not, what needs to change?”

The room fell silent as Claude’s words sat in the empty space, filling it uncomfortably.

“Are you suggesting… we change the ideals of the church?” Mercedes asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

“Seteth would know better than me how to best approach the situation, but there’s ideals on this list that don’t currently match up with the behaviors that the church encourages, such as overvaluing Crests and Relics.” Claude hesitated, and then shook his head. “I have some theories on what we can do there, but nothing substantial yet.”

“I will have to do some thinking on the matter. It is unfortunate that Lady Rhea is still in such a delicate state, but I believe that I can attempt to form a plan in her stead,” Seteth said finally, nodding.

“Okay, great. We’ve got Empire and Church buy-in. Where do the Faerghans stand?” Claude asked, looking directly at Dimitri.

“Well, if Dimitri is considering stepping down as king, that does give us a chance to rebuild the government structure…” Annette thought aloud, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. “But, um, I think we’re going to need some sort of interim leader, and then we can transition into a more balanced government with power in the hands of both nobles and commoners. Um, right?” she asked, pausing her notetaking to look up at Mercedes, who nodded.

“I think that’s a good start, Annie. There’s a lot of cultural values in Faerghus that put nobles and leadership on pedestals, so we’ll have to think of ways to help people discover other ways of interacting with their leaders,” Mercedes said, giving Annette an encouraging smile. “I’m sure we can think of something.”

“It won’t be easy, but I think people will feel liberated once they have to think for themselves, rather than swearing blind fealty to a king. I know that I do,” Ingrid admitted, glancing over at Dimitri for a brief moment before quickly looking away. “Of course, we will have to provide support for people as they explore what matters to them, in the same way that you have all supported me, and we have all supported each other.”

“Leave it to Ingrid to say something so to-the-point,” Sylvain said with a grin, and then he ducked as Ingrid tried to slug him in the face. “Sounds like we have a few good places to start brainstorming.”

Dimitri felt a weight lift off his chest, and suddenly, he could breathe easier. Even if he chose to do something else, if he decided that being king was not the right way for him to make his reparations,  _ the Kingdom would be okay _ . His friends were all committed to making sure of it, and, well, so was he. But for Faerghus to change, to truly reckon with its past, there could not be a king. “As the one who has led Faerghus’ forces against Cornelia and the Empire for the last few years, I believe that it is only fitting that Rodrigue fills the role of interim ruler for the Kingdom as we undergo this process.”

Rodrigue had, until now, been sitting in the corner, observing the meeting. Now he stood and walked over to the table, giving Claude a wry look. “I see now. This was what you meant earlier this morning when you said I would have a role to play, was it not?” 

“I couldn’t possibly predict the best short-term leader for the Kingdom,” Claude said innocently. Lorenz rolled his eyes in the background.

“Government reform does seem like the first step towards pushing Faerghus in this direction of your ‘ideal world.’ However, just like with the Empire, I think you will find nobles reluctant to give up their power and status. Although, as Sylvain said, a significant portion of future nobility is sitting in this room.” Rodrigue glanced down at Annette’s messy diagram thoughtfully. “You have some good ideas, Annette. You should develop them further.”

“I, ah, um, yes, sir! I will!” Annette said, a blush overcoming her cheeks.

“And, Dimitri, if you are truly okay with this, then I will proudly fill the role that you all have planned for me,” Rodrigue said.

“I promise, Rodrigue, that I support this move wholeheartedly. I think this is the best thing for Faerghus moving forward,” Dimitri said firmly. It felt good to finally be sure of one thing, even though there was so much uncertainty about it. To have been groomed his whole life for one job, and then to be freed of that role so graciously… Dimitri could have cried. In fact, his eye was beginning to tear up yet again.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s come back together and wrap this up,” Claude said, and all eyes turned to him obediently. “I know I’ve given you all a lot to think about, and I hope that you take the time to brainstorm, bounce ideas off each other, and have the important conversations. But don’t forget, we’re planning to attack the hideout of Those Who Slither in the Dark at the end of the month, so we’re not quite at the finish line yet. I’ll leave the strategy and scheduling to Teach, as always, so don’t forget to check in with them. And that concludes this war council meeting. Go eat lunch, you’ve earned it.”

Everyone filed out of the room after that, the excitement tangible in the air. Dimitri lingered behind for a moment, watching as Claude breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall, exhaustion finally showing on his face. Professor Byleth stood next to him, patting him sympathetically on the back. Dimitri wanted to approach Claude, to thank him for all of the hard work that he’d put in to make this future for Dimitri, and yet… he couldn’t find the words. Resolving to thank him another day, Dimitri followed his friends to the dining hall, smiling at their chatter and banter. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Dimitri thought that maybe, he actually enjoyed his meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, this is based on an activity that I had to do when I was doing a racial justice and climate justice training. I have personally found it to be very useful in realigning myself, but I never thought it would serve me in the world of fanfic!
> 
> Anyway if y'all have any ideas for what the perfect Fodlan could look like, I'd love to hear them hehe


	15. Step 9, Part 4: The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa happy birthday Claude!! I wanted to get the whole rest of Step 9 up in time for his birthday but I didn't write fast enough, so I'm missing... the actual day of his birth... but you get this lovely surprise instead!
> 
> Thanks so much to Jade for giving me ideas (even if they were unintentional), and to Bel, Lara, Quag, Zy, Saj, and Healers for their constant help and support. I love all of y'all <3

**Blue Sea Moon, Day 9**

“Dimitri, can I talk to you?”

Dimitri was sitting near the cathedral enjoying the cool morning air when Claude approached him, with a person Dimitri hadn’t seen in years. His purple hair was longer, his gaze somehow more intimidating than before, the air about him as mischievous as always. Dimitri shifted uncomfortably as the man sized him up, but it made sense-- Dimitri looked quite different since their last encounter five years ago.

“Certainly,” Dimitri said, standing up to greet the group. “Is something the matter?”

“Not… exactly. Follow us.” Claude turned to his companion, a grin on his face. “Or, I suppose, follow Yuri.”

“Don’t ask any questions ‘till we’ve arrived,” Yuri said mysteriously, and then he turned and began walking, his steps very lightfooted. Yuri led the three of them out of the cathedral to a stone wall tucked behind the sauna. He pushed at one of the stones, and the wall slid away to reveal a tunnel headed underground. Dimitri ducked into the tunnel, and Claude closed the wall behind them.

With only one eye to guide him, Dimitri spent most of the trek paying close attention to his footing. The tunnel was a mix of uneven steps and half-paved paths, and it was lit only by Yuri’s fire spell in front of them. Dimitri’s thoughts wandered back to a time five years ago, when he, Claude, Edelgard, and some others had embarked on a similar journey underground. Claude didn’t seem to be concerned, so perhaps there wasn’t as much fighting and danger ahead of them now as there had been five years ago.

Finally, the tunnel opened up to a cobblestone path lit by torches, and then to a larger room with wooden stalls and various rubble littered about. Abyss looked altogether not too different from when Dimitri had last been there, except that the place seemed perhaps a little more lively. Some people were talking in small groups, but the chatter fell to a hush when Yuri, Claude, and Dimitri entered the space. As they walked through the alleys, hushed whispers and curious stares followed them.

“Eh, can’t blame ‘em. It’s not every day you see two of the most powerful people in Fodlan down in Abyss,” Yuri said indifferently with a shrug. “People down here have been wronged by those in power a lot in these last five years. If you want to regain their trust, you have some work to do.”

“It’s in my notes,” Claude said wryly, pulling a small notebook out of his pocket for emphasis.

Yuri snickered. “Ah, yes, of course. Leave it to the Master Tactician to take notes on everything for later.”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t do the same thing,” Claude shot back, smirking.

“Ah, but I store everything up here,” Yuri said, pointing to his head. “Here we are.” Yuri led them into a room that was set up like a classroom, complete with whiteboard, desks, and chalk. Professor Byleth and Hapi were rearranging the desks into a circle, while Constance and Balthus argued about… something, Dimitri couldn’t tell exactly what.

“Gather around, clowns. Dimitri and Claude are here,” Yuri said endearingly, sitting on top of one of the desks.

“The only clown here, Yuri, is Balthus! I cannot believe that he would choose to waste his funds on such trivial concerns rather than putting them towards the restoration of House Nuvelle!” Constance scoffed, taking a seat at the desk to the right of Yuri.

“You could have at least helped drag the desks into the circle,” Hapi grumbled as she dragged the last desk into place, completing the circle. “Hey, Didi. Long time no see.”

Dimitri looked around the room for a moment, trying to figure out who Hapi was talking to, and then paused as realization dawned on him. “Oh, ah, yes. Hello.”

Hapi continued to stare at Dimitri for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I see it now. You look just like her.”

“Like who?” Dimitri asked.

“We’ll get to that in a moment,” Claude said, sitting himself in between an open chair and the professor. “Here, sit down, Dimitri. And because I know you’ll ask, I’ve already spoken with Dedue. He was content to hear the short version, and said the long version should be reserved for you.”

Dimitri’s eyebrows creased. “Then, this is about the Tragedy?”

Yuri nodded. “After the professor returned, the four of us rejoined Claude’s army, but as more of a recon and stealth unit.”

Balthus laughed heartily. “I gotta admit, when Claude asked me to help out with stealth missions, I had to wonder what was going through his head, but it turns out that Constance and I make for a pretty good distraction.”

“Which leaves Yuri-bird and I free to sneak in and get whatever information we need,” Hapi said, smiling.

“And ever since we picked you up at Gronder, Claude has had us focused on a special mission: figuring out what happened in the Tragedy of Duscur.” Yuri shook his head. “It was pretty difficult to get the intel we needed, but as the fighting has settled down in the Faerghus Dukedom, we’ve been able to gather more. And with Viscount Kleiman’s man turning himself in, we’ve been able to confirm a lot of the theories that we had, such as Patricia’s involvement.”

“So she was involved after all,” Dimitri said, his voice low.

“It’s not that simple,” Hapi jumped in, a slight frown on her normally relaxed face. “I talked to Anselma— Patricia— a lot when I was Cornelia’s prisoner.”

“You— you were Cornelia’s prisoner?” Dimitri said, horror overwhelming his voice.

“Yup. It’s a long story. She tricked me into being her test subject in exchange for a roof over my head and a meal a day. Anselma was also horrified by my situation, but she couldn’t convince Cornelia to let me go, so she would come by and chat with me instead to make my days better. She talked about you all the time, Didi. It was kind of cute.” Hapi giggled as Dimitri blushed. “But when Edelgard came to visit Faerghus, things changed. Anselma thought that your father was hiding Edelgard from her, and Cornelia used that to convince her to cooperate in her staging of the Tragedy.”

“But even my father and I didn’t know who Edelgard was! How could we have hidden that from her?” Dimitri cried.

“Cornelia probably planted that seed in Patricia’s brain and watered it liberally. We have proof that she was in contact with the western lords at the time as well, including Viscount Kleiman. She convinced them that their frankly disgusting views about Duscur were warranted.” Yuri wrinkled his nose in disgust. “And Lord Arundel’s behavior around the whole incident suggests that she swayed him, as well.”

“I always thought Lord Arundel was behind the tragedy. His donations to the church stopped abruptly without any explanation, and his behavior after that time was suspicious,” Dimitri mused aloud.

“Well, you’re not alone there. According to the documents we swiped from Hubert’s office, he thought so, too. He didn’t leave behind any definitive proof, unfortunately,” Yuri lamented.

“His office  _ did _ have a dart board with Claude’s face on it, though. It was all full of holes,” Balthus said with a grin.

“What an honor,” Claude said mockingly, bowing.

Yuri smiled mischievously. “Did you save the dart board, Balthus? We can hang it up down here.”

“I wouldn’t mind throwing a dart or two at my face,” Claude said, returning the smile. “In any case, Dimitri, I thought it would set your mind at ease to know that your stepmother wasn’t just plotting against you from the get-go.”

“Yeah, she really did care about you until Cornelia got in the way,” Hapi added.

“I see. I thank you for investigating this matter so thoroughly for me,” Dimitri said earnestly. “If there is ever anything I can do to repay you, please let me know.”

Constance laughed haughtily. “Oh, you need not worry about that, Dimitri. Claude has promised us hefty rewards in return for our services.”

“Yeah, although you might want to talk to Ferdinand and Lorenz about what House Nuvelle will look like in their new scheme for the nobility. It’s not going to be the same nobility you once were a part of, that’s for sure,” Claude warned.

“And that is perfectly acceptable to me. As long as I regain my house’s honor, I can adapt to this new world you hope to build,” Constance said confidently.

Hapi crossed her arms. “I do hope this new world of yours comes to fruition. Your friends have quite some entertaining ideas.”

“It’s  _ our _ world, Hapi. You’re a part of it.  _ Abyss _ is a part of it,” Claude said emphatically.

Yuri laughed. “It’s refreshing to hear someone dare to dream so willingly. I almost  _ want _ to support you, Claude,” he said playfully.

“You’ve got a seat at the table if you want it. Leonie would definitely be happy to have you aboard to help her bully Lorenz,” Claude said with a wink.

“I’ll be there, buddy!” Balthus said, giving Claude an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“We all will,” Yuri said, and the other three nodded. It made Dimitri’s heart swell inexplicably to see how much the four citizens of Abyss trusted Claude.

“Well, that’s enough of that. You all need your rest,” Claude said, standing up. “Shall we head back to the surface, Dimitri, Teach?”

“I have some business down here,” Professor Byleth said, raising a couple of radishes for emphasis. Dimitri had no idea what the radishes were for, but he wasn’t going to question it.

“Let’s go, then,” Claude said, and he and Dimitri walked back the way they came, sharing the companionable silence as they followed the cobblestone path back to the tunnel.

“Hey, Dimitri?” Claude said suddenly, just as they were moments away from approaching the surface. “Do you know what you’re doing after the war?”

Dimitri sighed. “I have given it some thought, but I am not entirely sure yet what I will be doing.”

Claude chuckled. “Well, I’m sure everyone has been giving you advice, so how about this? If, at the end of the month, you still don’t know what you want to do, I’ll tell you what I have in mind. Does that seem fair?”

“You could just give me your advice now. I would not reject another opinion, you know,” Dimitri said.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but that’s exactly the problem. I want you to have the chance to make this decision without being swayed by my offer.” Claude pushed the wall in front of them aside, and Dimitri squinted as daylight streamed into the tunnel. “So, you, me, end of the month? Maybe we can go watch the sunrise again.” Claude stepped out of the tunnel, then turned and reached a hand out to help Dimitri up.

“That sounds wonderful,” Dimitri answered, taking Claude’s hand, although he could have hoisted himself out of the tunnel without too much trouble.

After all, it wasn’t a bad thing to rely on other people from time to time.

Claude winked. “Then it’s a date, Your Royalness.”

Dimitri shook his head. “I am no longer royalty. I’m stepping down from the throne.”

“Hmm, that’s true. I’ll have to come up with a new nickname for you, then.” Claude winked again, and then saluted. “Well, see you around. Duty calls, as I’m sure you know.”

In the distance, Dimitri spotted Bernadetta walking towards the dorms and realized that his late morning knitting session with her and Mercedes must be quickly approaching. “Yes, it does. I will speak to you later, Claude. Thank you.”

And the two hurried on to continue with their days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you didn't see the Ashen Wolves coming, did you? I intended to leave them out of this fic since I wasn't familiar with them, but Hapi's support with Dimitri is too crucial to his story to leave out, and I also got to replay Azure Moon with the Ashen Wolves recruited, so I feel more comfortable writing them now. This was the compromise I came up with. Just... pretend they were there all along :)


	16. Step 9, Part 5: Decide What To Do Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer do something that they'd been meaning to do for a long, long time.

**Blue Sea Moon, Day 24**

Three impatient knocks reverberated against Dimitri’s door as he fumbled with the handle. On the fourth knock, he opened the door to find an eager and impatient Ingrid waiting for him, her arms crossed and her foot tapping. “Come  _ on _ , Dimitri. We do this every week. By now, you should be ready for me.”

Dimitri chuckled sheepishly. “Try as I might, I am unable to be as punctual as you are.” He frowned as his gaze traveled from Ingrid’s face to her feet. Her usual adventuring outfit had been replaced by a turquoise summer dress. “You are dressed rather nicely today.”

Ingrid’s cheeks flushed pink. “Dorothea helped me with my hair, and Annette gave me the makeup. I thought, you know, I haven’t gotten many chances to dress up lately.”

“Perhaps I ought to dress up, as well,” Dimitri said, glancing down at his wrinkled sleepclothes. He’d trained with Felix in the morning, at least, but aside from that, he’d spent most of the day in bed knitting, journaling, and resting, so there had been no need to wear anything particularly nice. “Sorry to make you wait further, Ingrid.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m going to run down to Sylvain’s room and make sure he’s ready, too,” Ingrid said, and shooed him back into his room.

Dimitri fretted for a moment as he looked through his closet before pulling out a black button down and a blue vest. It had been a while since he had worn anything that was not battle armor or his sleepclothes, so maybe it would feel good to wear something more... normal. He dug around in his drawers to find a matching pair of slacks, then changed into the formal clothes as quickly as possible while also taking care not to rip any of them.

When he opened his door again, he found Ingrid standing outside, a frown on her face. “Oh, good. I was just about to knock again. There’s a… situation in the dining hall, so Sylvain and Felix have gone ahead to grab us food. We’re going to meet them in the Blue Lions classroom instead.”

“A situation?” Dimitri asked.

“Mercedes was cooking and she accidentally made a smoke bomb. The dining hall has been cleared out so that nobody gets hurt,” Ingrid said, shaking her head with disbelief.

“Ah.” Dimitri had more questions than answers, but he decided not to inquire further. His own cooking skills were a disaster as it was.

The pair began walking towards the classrooms side by side, Ingrid’s quick, short strides keeping pace with Dimitri’s slower, longer ones. “How did your knitting session with Bernadetta go?”

“She is starting to open up to me more. She is an excellent teacher, as well, and a wonderful companion. I wish that we had become friends sooner,” Dimitri said, smiling fondly as his mind wandered back to that afternoon. Bernadetta was still jumpy around him, but she really was a good teacher. He had started making his own eyepatch today, a brown leather eyepatch with a gold border. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to wear it, but it felt good to make something for himself. “How was your sparring session with Judith?”

“It was good. I learn a lot from her every time we fight. She’s so strong,” Ingrid said, her eyes adopting a dreamy look.

“Stronger than the professor?” Dimitri asked curiously.

Ingrid sighed. “It’s hard to quantify that. I mean, the professor was blessed by the goddess and wields the Sword of the Creator, so can you really compare the two?”

“I suppose there are very few who can compare to the professor,” Dimitri agreed.

The pair approached the Blue Lions classroom at the same time as Claude and Hilda. “Claude, Hilda. Are you both taking refuge here after the dining hall incident as well?” Dimitri asked.

“Yup! We would go eat in the Golden Deer classroom, but it’s not really set up for that right now. It’s pretty hard to eat with all those mattresses laying around,” Hilda said casually.

Claude gave Hilda a skeptical look. “There’s still the couches by the fireplace. We could sit there.”

“No way. That corner has been forever dominated by the politics club, and I don’t want to absorb their angry debate energy while trying to enjoy my meal,” Hilda said firmly.

“Whatever you say,” Claude said, rolling his eyes.

“The doors aren’t usually closed,” Dimitri said, frowning. He put two hands to the doors and began to push them open. “I wonder if something happened here, too--”

“SURPRISE!”

Confetti fell from the ceiling, bathing Dimitri and Claude, and loud bells and a trumpet blasted them from all around. Dimitri recoiled and it took him a moment to regain his wits, but once he did, his gaze fell to a banner hanging over a long table of food in the back of the room. It read: “Happy birthday, Claude! Welcome, Dimitri!”

Claude laughed. “I should have seen this coming. It’s not like me to forget my own birthday.”

“You’ve been working yourself too hard, silly!” Hilda said, jabbing him in the ribcage with her elbow. “I was so sure you’d pick up on what we were doing, but with you shut away in the war council room all day, it was a breeze putting this together.”

“For context, Dimitri, when each new student joined the Golden Deer, we’d hold a little party in the classroom. We’d eat dinner together, and cut cake, and then play some games to get to know each other better. You know, just to bond as a class and welcome them,” Ignatz explained.

“And we’ve been meaning to throw your party, but you were recovering in the hospital wing, and then we had to march on Fort Merceus, and then things picked up as we were preparing for Enbarr, and so we never really got the time, but then Claude’s birthday was coming up, so we thought we could celebrate both at once!” Annette said happily, taking Dimitri’s hand and leading him further into the room. “Look, we’ve got all the desks set up into one long table so we can eat together, and we made sure to have some of your and Claude’s favorite foods tonight. And Mercie and I made the cake!”

“I… I see…” Dimitri looked around, bewildered. Everyone was there, even Felix. And he wasn’t even frowning.

“Can we eat already? Setting all this food up without taking a bite was really tough!” Raphael said, laughing boisterously.

“Oh, come on, Raphael. You ate, like, three hours ago,” Hilda said, rolling her eyes.

“And besides, Claude and Dimitri are the guests of honor. It would be uncouth for us to eat before them,” Lorenz added.

Claude shook his head. “No need for that. We’re all friends here, and I’m sure you all worked hard. Let’s dig in together!”

With Claude giving the okay, everyone fell into a line, and Annette passed out plates and silverware to everyone as they did. It was much more orderly than Dimitri would have expected, but he supposed some parts of being in an army never really left you, and the order was one of them. The dishes were set up on the table in a self-serve fashion, and as Dimitri scooped a little bit of each dish onto his plate, he wondered if this food had been cooked by the Golden Deer themselves. The grilled fish looked like Leonie’s work, and there was a wide assortment of sweets, no doubt the work of Annette, Mercedes, and some of the others. He even spotted some specifically Faerghan cuisine that he was willing to guess was Ingrid’s work due to how familiar and homey it looked. There were a couple dishes Dimitri didn’t recognize, but based on Claude’s eager expression, they were some of Claude’s favorite foods.

Dimitri ended up seated at the table next to Ignatz and Lysithea. Claude sat at the head of the table, of course, and as the others filed in, it looked like they were intentionally sitting next to people they had not spoken to in a while, which was such a  _ Golden Deer _ thing to do. Even more puzzling (but welcome) was how when anyone ever left for seconds, someone new would take their seat. Over the course of the meal, Dimitri talked to Ignatz and Lysithea about the scenery in Hrym territory, Petra and Dorothea about the opera, Yuri and Bernadetta about gardening, and Lorenz and Linhardt about Crestology. It was enough to make Dimitri’s head spin, and yet he felt warm and content.

After the meal, they broke into smaller groups to play card games, discuss books, debate politics, take bets on the card games-- there were an array of activities, and Dimitri was content to watch as the others played games and laughed and enjoyed themselves. As the evening turned to night, a few people started to drop off, retiring to sleep early or leaving to make final preparations. Dimitri was by no means the first person to leave, but as he lost the ability to focus on the words that people were saying, he excused himself to get some fresh air.

The festivities had intentionally started early in the evening, for they were to march the next day for the Hrym Mountains to enter the lair of Those Who Slither, so they would need to get a good night’s rest. As such, the night was young, and the air was still hot and humid. Dimitri sat down on the lawn, his back resting against one of the stone pillars around the courtyard. His heart was full tonight. To know that not just his previous classmates but every single one of the Golden Deer wanted to include him, wanted to bring him into the fold, made him happy. It was weird to know that he was loved. The last time he’d felt loved was when his father had still been alive.

“Good evening, your Faerghanness,” a familiar, playful voice said, and Claude emerged from behind the pillar, sitting down next to Dimitri.

Dimitri frowned. “This nickname does not sound as natural as the others.”

“Yeah, it’s a work in progress. I’ll keep thinking on it,” Claude said with a grin. “So, have you done some thinking? Do you have any plans?”

“I wish to apologize publicly to my people, to give them the explanation they deserve, before I step down from the throne. I do not want there to be any misunderstandings about why I am making this choice.”

Claude nodded, impressed. “That’s a bold move, but I think it’s a good one. And after that?”

Dimitri bit his lip. “I do not know. It seems that everywhere I look, there are people suffering and problems that need to be solved. Truthfully, I do not feel ready to help with any of them, nor do I think that anyone will want my help once they learn of what I have done these last five years. Once they are not obligated to worship me as their king, they will judge me as the monster that I am.” 

“Do you think you’re a monster?” Claude asked, his curious eyes scanning Dimitri’s face for clues.

Dimitri sighed heavily. “I have been trying hard to think better of myself, but I have spent so long convincing myself that I had lost the right to be treated as a human being. Even just now, during our party, I felt as though I did not deserve to be with everyone. I cannot shake this feeling that I must earn the right to be happy.”

“Hmm.” Claude stroked his chin. “I think you need a chance to prove to yourself that you’re the person you want to be, in a place where nobody has any prior judgments for who you’re supposed to be.”

“But how is that possible? Everyone in Fodlan will know me as the Blaiddyd who failed to be a good king for his people, who committed unspeakable atrocities during the war—”

“—and who recognized that there was a better way forward. Give yourself some credit. You’re doing the right thing,” Claude said earnestly, a rare tone of voice to hear from him. “What do you think of what I’ve said? Does that sound like a situation that would benefit you?”

Dimitri nodded. “I do think it would be easier to regain faith in myself if I had a chance to start from a clean slate. But it is also my duty to own up to what people think of me, and to make up for my mistakes.”

“Sure, and you’ll do that, one day. But for now, maybe it’s better to get that clean slate so you can have some time to think and grow without constant pressure from the world around you.”

“What are you suggesting, Claude?”

Claude turned his gaze upwards to the stars. “Once this war is over, I’m handing the Alliance over to Hilda and Lorenz. They’ll work with everyone else to move towards the republic-style government that they want to build for Fodlan. In the meantime, I’ll be going back home to Almyra to take care of some unfinished business. You could come with me.”

“You’re from Almyra?” Dimitri said dumbly.

Claude chuckled. “As if the color of my skin didn’t give it away? Yeah, I was born in Almyra and grew up there. I came to Fodlan to see the world and get closer to my dream, but it’s time for me to head back.”

“And what would I do in Almyra? I don’t even speak the language,” Dimitri said.

“You’ll learn. It’ll give you something to do. And trust me, I’ve got more than enough schemes to keep us busy.” Claude turned to Dimitri. “So, what do you say?”

Dimitri was not a wandering soul. As a child, he had only traveled within Faerghus, and even then, he spent most of his time in Fhirdiad, learning all that he needed to know to be king. When he’d come to the Academy as a student, he had gotten to see more of Fodlan through their monthly missions, but he hadn’t been interested in learning about those places in detail-- not unless he thought it would get him closer to finding his revenge. And now, now that he was free of the dead? He was hesitant to leave Fodlan, the only place he was familiar with, but the chance for a fresh start was tempting. And he could always come back, couldn’t he? Plus, with his newfound knowledge of a place so different from his home, he might be able to help change Fodlan for the better.

There were still things to be done in Fodlan. Cornelia was still out there, and the end of the war had not suddenly brought peace to Fodlan. But Dimitri remembered the dangerous glint in Ingrid’s eyes when he had told her about Cornelia’s role in the Tragedy, and Ashe’s determination to help Dedue rebuild Duscur. He remembered the late night debates between Ferdinand, Lorenz, Hilda, Leonie, Dorothea, and Yuri about what the political system of a united Fodlan should look like. He remembered Seteth and Flayn ceaselessly going through church scripture and denoting the places where it might be harmful to the commonfolk. And most of all, he remembered the vow that Sylvain had taken, and that everyone else had quickly agreed to, to lock away his Relic forever once the war was over, and to demolish the Crest system no matter what it took.

Dimitri didn’t have to do everything alone. He had friends who were working right alongside him, picking up his slack while he took the time to recover.

“If you believe I will be useful,” Dimitri said finally, “then I will come with you.”

Claude grinned wider than Dimitri had ever seen before. “Great! You might want to work on your wyvern riding skills, because that’s how we’ll be getting there.”

“Ah…”

“Oh, and we’ll have to get you some new clothes, because that Faerghus blue will stick out like a sore thumb. But don’t worry, I’ll handle the details.”

Claude winked, and Dimitri wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

**Blue Sea Moon, Day 25**

Dimitri was attempting to pitch his tent on his own when Cyril approached him, a puzzled look on his face.

“Do ya want some help? Where are your tentmates?” Cyril asked.

“I’m sharing a tent with Ashe and Dedue, and they are both cooking dinner currently,” Dimitri said, and then very nearly stabbed his finger with one of the stakes.

Cyril raised his eyebrows. “Oh. That’s gotta be interesting, what with them bein’ engaged an’ all.”

“The alternative was to share with Felix and Sylvain.”

Cyril made a face. “Why was that even an option? I think Claude was just messing with ya. Nobody should have to share a tent with the two of them.”

Dimitri blinked. “Why not?”

“Uh... “ Cyril gave Dimitri a look. “They’re totally head over heels for each other.” 

Dimitri almost stabbed himself with the tent stake again, and Cyril snatched it from his hands before he could do further damage.

“I thought ya knew, what with hanging out with them and all. Did they not tell you?” Cyril asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“It’s quite possible that they mentioned it,” Dimitri said lightly, trying to hide the small crisis that was currently happening in his brain as he pieced together all the strange and awkward moments from the last three months.

“At least Ashe and Dedue are nice enough not t’ kiss in front of other people, but Sylvain?” Cyril rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not what I came here to talk to you about. I heard you’re goin’ with Claude to Almyra.”

Dimitri frowned. “I was under the impression that Claude was trying to keep his plans after the war a secret.”

“Yeah, he’s not goin’ around tellin’ everyone, but word travels fast ‘round the camp. Besides, he asked me if I wanted t’ go with him, actually.”

“And you said no?” Dimitri said, surprised. He didn’t know much about Cyril, but he at least knew Cyril was from Almyra.

Cyril sighed. “I don’t really remember Almyra that well. I think I want to visit one day, with Ignatz, but right now, I’ve got work to do at the monastery. I…” Cyril shifted uncomfortably as he nailed down the last stake. “I thought for a long time that my purpose in life was to serve Lady Rhea, but being in Claude’s army and watching you has made me think hard about what I want to do once the war is over. I think, more than just serving Lady Rhea, I gotta serve my friends, too. This army’s the first home I ever found, and I want to protect it.”

“Claude and the professor have cultivated a family here,” Dimitri agreed, thinking back to the welcome party from the night before, and how eager everyone was to include him. “It will be hard to leave everyone behind.”

“But I’m glad you’re going with him,” Cyril said. “Claude’s been alone his whole life before now, I figure. It’s gotta be tough, being from two different worlds. I think the real reason Claude hasn’t mentioned that he’s leaving to everybody is because he’s planning for us to all forget him once he leaves.”

“But nobody here would forget Claude! He is an instrumental part of this group,” Dimitri said perhaps a little too loudly, then quickly looked around to make sure nobody else was listening before continuing in a quieter voice. “I will do my best to ensure that Claude knows how important he is.”

“That’s what I was going t’ ask you about,” Cyril said, determination in his gaze. “For all the thinkin’ Claude does, he sure doesn’t think a lot about himself. That’s one thing you have in common.” Dimitri smiled sheepishly. “Since you’re going with him, I figure you can watch out for him like he’ll watch out for you, make sure he’s taking care of himself and that he’s not trying to do everything all on his own. Remind him that he has friends.”

“I will do my utmost to ensure that he remembers.” Dimitri chuckled. “And I will try my best to remember that I have friends as well, no matter how far away they may be.”

“Good,” Cyril said, standing up and dusting off his hands. “Well, I got your tent all set up for ya. Anything else ya need?”

“Thank you,” Dimitri said, and shook his head. “Perhaps I should be asking you if I can help with anything.”

“You might wanna go check on the professor. I think they might’ve fished up more than they can carry back with them,” Cyril said, and Dimitri couldn’t help but laugh.

“That does sound like them, yes. I will go seek them out. Thank you, Cyril.”

Cyril beamed, and Dimitri realized that it was perhaps the first time he had seen the boy smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to get this chapter up for Claude's birthday, but I was just a few days too late. Oh, well. Happy late birthday, Claude! And with that, we finally come to the end of Step Nine.
> 
> I will not be writing the Shambhala battle because the events that take place are pretty much exactly what happen in canon, and I do not think I would have anything interesting or new to add to that battle. So the next chapters will be post-Shambhala, and there will (probably?) be two of them. But fear not! I have ideas for two sequels to this fic about Dimitri's and Claude's exploits in Almyra, and lots of spin-off fics that I want to write. So hopefully I won't be going anywhere!


	17. Step 10: Say Goodbye to the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude shares some shocking truths with the group, Dimitri eats a meal for once in his life, and the Claude Squad faces Nemesis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not proud of all of the parts of this chapter, but I'm proud of enough of it to share it with you all. Special thanks to Lara for giving me ideas for the dining hall scene, and for Healers, Jade, and Quag for giving me ideas for the ancestors. I refuse to acknowledge canon's treatment of the Nemesis battle.
> 
> One chapter left, unless I suddenly come up with a lot of ideas all at once. Thanks for reading!

**Verdant Rain Moon, Day 1**

The last thing that anyone had expected was a surprise war council being called the day after they had conquered Shambhala. With Rhea in critical condition, Dimitri wondered if they were meeting to discuss contingency plans if she passed away. However, Claude’s grim expression when Dimitri entered the room suggested that perhaps something else was going on.

“I’m sorry to keep asking for your help again and again, given that this war should be over.” Claude sighed, and then the exhaustion on his face disappeared behind a practiced smile that fooled no one in the room. “We’ve got more trouble. Nemesis has been spotted marching towards Garreg Mach, attacking everything in his path. We’re going to leave here tomorrow to meet him. Our enemy is a monster of legend, and as always, there’s not a shred of proof that we can win, but...”

“You know we’re coming with you,” Cyril spoke up, eyes glowing with determination.

Claude laughed. “I don’t want to make any assumptions. If you don’t want to go, feel free to stay behind. Nobody will hold anything against you, and you don’t need to make that decision now.”

It was very much like Claude to give everyone a chance to do what they needed to, but as Dimitri looked around the room, he didn’t see a single person who looked as though they were going to back down from the challenge before them.

“If you’re coming to take Nemesis down, report to the front gates tomorrow at dawn. We’ll talk strategy then. For now, we have more to talk about. Teach and I went to talk to Rhea, and we learned… a lot.” Claude ran his hand through his hair. “Some of what we learned is disturbing, and most of what we learned should not leave this room. I don’t want to cause widespread panic.”

“Ooh, you cracked Rhea? This’ll be interesting,” Sylvain said, leaning back in his chair casually.

Claude let out a breath. “Right. Well, let’s start from the beginning. Those Who Slither in the Dark have been around since the time of Seiros and Nemesis. They believe the Goddess Sothis to be a tyrant and aimed to erase her influence entirely, proving the supremacy of man over god. They challenged the Goddess herself to battle long ago, leaving the land in a devastated state. The Goddess Sothis passed away, but Those Who Slither were also forced to retreat underground, where they must have waited for their revenge until now.”

“I can see why you would not teach that information publicly. A world where humans challenge the Goddess openly is a chaotic one,” Lorenz mused.

“Yeah, that’s about the most acceptable part of all of this,” Claude said grimly. “Years later, in retaliation, Those Who Slither convinced Nemesis and the Ten Elites to turn on the church and seek out the destruction of Seiros and all of the Goddess’ children.”

“Saint Seiros is a child of the Goddess?” Mercedes asked, eyes wide with surprise.

Claude nodded. “Yes, and I’d wager that the other saints were children of the Goddess as well. And it turns out that these--” Claude held out his Relic weapon and placed it on the table in front of them. “--are apparently made out of the hearts and bones of the Goddess’ children, and Crests come from being injected with their blood.”

The room fell silent as Claude’s words settled in. Dimitri couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and yet it made perfect sense. On many occasions he had felt as though Areadbhar was pulsing in his hand, not unlike a heartbeat, and the weapon itself did have the coloration and brittle quality of bone.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Mercedes whispered, the first to break the silence.

Sylvain shook his head angrily. “And what, the Church just supported using these… these awful weapons? Even though they were crafted from Sothis’ own children’s remains?”

“The weapons were already out of the Church’s hands, and I imagine Rhea didn’t want to encourage killing the children of the Goddess for power, so she hid the truth.” Claude sighed and scratched the back of his head. “A lot of the truth. I’m not even halfway done yet.”

Linhardt suddenly sat up, his gaze keenly set on Flayn. “I see. It all makes sense now. Rhea  _ is _ Saint Seiros,” he said casually.

“Yes, that’s correct. Rhea is Saint Seiros. Nemesis and the Ten Elites stole the remains of the goddess Sothis herself, and Those Who Slither fashioned those remains into the Sword of the Creator. Then, Nemesis used the sword to massacre most of Rhea’s-- Seiros’-- siblings at Zanado, which is where our Relics came from.” Claude paused, sensing the tension in the room. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but Rhea told me and Teach all of this herself. It’s my choice to share it with you all.”

“It must have been really hard to see all of her siblings slaughtered like that,” Annette said, eyes watering with tears.

“And then Lady Rhea hunted down Nemesis and recovered the Sword of the Creator for revenge,” Ingrid said, looking up at Claude. “Is that right?”

“Yeah. I don’t know much beyond that, but I can speculate that Rhea probably lied about Crests and Relics to prevent any more violence against any remaining children of the Goddess,” Claude said.

“That is what I have always believed, although I never confronted her about it,” Seteth said, and Dimitri noticed for the first time how uncomfortable he and Flayn looked. “Because Nemesis was able to obtain some of Sothis’ blood, he has power that even the children of the Goddess cannot hope to match. We are fortunate to have someone on our side who can wield the Sword of the Creator. Without the professor, we would not stand a chance.”

Linhardt yawned. “Our chances would be higher if you would tell us everything, Seteth. Hiding information from us now that Rhea has confirmed so much of our speculation is pointless.”

Seteth and Flayn exchanged a glance, and Seteth nodded. “Very well, but I ask that this information not leave this room, for it will endanger us both greatly. There are four remaining children of the Goddess alive, or…” Seteth let out a shaky breath. “I suppose that Rhea will soon pass away, leaving only three of us behind. Flayn is… a grandchild of the Goddess, I suppose. I am afraid that both of us were largely absent when the Church of Seiros was founded, and when Rhea made the decisions that she did, due to…” Seteth closed his eyes, his voice shaking. “Other circumstances. As you may have noticed with the Death Knight targeting Flayn, her blood is extremely coveted, and mine is, as well. If you were to kill us, I suppose you could fashion yourself some nice Relics. As such, I prioritized keeping us both safe, and we spent most of the last thousand years hidden away.”

In a rare moment of clarity, Dimitri thought back to his conversation with Flayn by the docks, and to how she had said that she knew what it was like to return to a world that had changed so much without her in it. What was it like to live for a thousand years, and to only rejoin the world after so much time had passed?

“Thank for your trusting us with that information, Seteth,” Claude said earnestly, gently, perhaps having noticed the distress and discomfort on both Seteth’s and Flayn’s faces. “Your secret is safe with us.”

“I guess, if it was to keep the children of the Goddess safe…” Sylvain groaned. “None of this makes any sense. Why build such an oppressive system of Crests and Relics? Why hide so much?”

“Forget that,” Hilda cut in. “Seteth, how  _ old _ are you?”

Seteth flinched. “I am not going to answer that question. Putting that information in your hands does not seem like a wise idea to me.”

“Okay, okay, you can all interrogate Seteth for information later.” Claude picked up his Relic from the table and raised it in front of him, his gaze burning with intensity. “We’re going to go meet Nemesis in battle. We’ll kill him once and for all, and then destroy the Relics that were so grossly made and with them, move into a new future, one that isn’t dictated by the revenge of Those Who Slither in the Dark or the Crests and Relics that they stole. The future we build is going to be entirely in our hands.” He looked around the room, and then back to Seteth. “Now that we know the full truth, there’s nothing stopping us from taking hold of our future with our own two hands. Are you with me?”

One by one, everyone around the room nodded, their own eyes reflecting Claude’s determination.

“Great. Take some time to process everything we’ve learned today, and get ready. The real battle starts tomorrow.”

~*~

Dimitri wasn’t surprised to find the dining hall mostly empty when he went to grab a late lunch. Most of the army was running around making last-minute preparations, and those who had been in the war council were largely absent from the dining hall. Dimitri figured that many of them would need time to dwell on all that Claude had told them, especially people who were more dedicated to the church. He didn’t know yet how he felt about the whole situation; he’d never been too dedicated to the church, and he understood why Rhea had acted the way that she had. If anything, he felt bad for Rhea, as he knew firsthand how it felt to watch everyone important to you die before your eyes--

No. No. Dimitri shook the thoughts away. He was not letting depressing thoughts take hold of him today. He spotted Lorenz, Lysithea, and Ignatz eating together and decided to join them. Perhaps eating with company would help steer his thoughts in a better direction and, as Manuela would say, “process this healthily.”

“Oh, hi, Dimitri,” Ignatz said glumly, moving his mashed potatoes around with his spoon.

“Hello, Ignatz. Is something wrong?” Dimitri asked.

Lysithea laughed harshly. “Of course something’s wrong. Claude just tore Ignatz’s whole vision of the church apart.”

Ignatz shook his head. “It’s not like that. I know that the church has done a lot of things that have made people’s lives more difficult. I just didn’t think…” Ignatz sighed. “Everything we’ve ever learned about Fodlan’s history has been a lie.”

“Honestly, that’s more comforting to me. I thought that the Goddess was behind all of this Crest system nonsense, but now that I know she had nothing to do with it, I know we can dismantle the whole thing without worrying about divine intervention,” Lysithea said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s  _ still _ disheartening!” Ignatz insisted, showing the most passion that Dimitri had ever seen from him.

“You have every right to feel the way you do, Ignatz,” Lorenz cut in, and surprisingly, Lysithea nodded in agreement. 

“Thanks,” Ignatz said, and then paused. “Lorenz, you’re actually taking this quite well. With how Sylvain and Ferdinand both reacted to the truth, I thought you would be more concerned.”

Lorenz held his head high. “Perhaps I would be more downcast if I thought that this had any bearing on our direction forward, but I believe that ultimately, all of the conclusions we have drawn over the last month are unchanged by the news we have received. In fact, I feel even more certain that it is our duty to right the wrongs that our ancestors committed.”

“Spoken like a true noble,” Lysithea said with a smirk, and Ignatz smiled a little at that.

“What about you, Dimitri? Surely, being from the Kingdom of Faerghus, you must feel betrayed by all of the information the Church has kept hidden,” Ignatz said.

Dimitri shook his head. “I can understand the Archbishop’s desire to protect her and the remaining members of her family. In fact, I might have made the same decisions that she did if I was in her position. I am disturbed to learn that the liberation that Nemesis and our ancestors rallied around was the liberation of the land from the Goddess, her children, and her followers.”

“It’s possible that they wanted freedom from the Adrestrian Empire and didn’t agree completely with the goals of Those Who Slither. Lady Rhea rewrote history, so there’s very little chance that we’ll ever know exactly what the Ten Elites were thinking when they chose to fight in the War of Heroes,” Ignatz said dejectedly.

“Who cares what they were thinking? They chose to ally with a group of people who were so driven by revenge that they couldn’t see reason,” Lysithea said, anger creeping into her voice.

Dimitri’s thoughts drifted back to his own revenge, and how willing he had once been to throw his life away for his cause. “Nemesis and the Ten Elites were likely tools to the revenge of Those Who Slither against the Goddess. If they allowed themselves to be used in such a single-minded revenge that sought to wipe out a race of people simply for who they were, then I cannot condone their actions.”

“My thoughts exactly. The choices of our ancestors to ally with such a pernicious group indicate to me that they did not deserve the noble titles they were given,” Lorenz said firmly. “I am shocked that Lady Rhea elevated the Ten Elites to the status of heroes in her rewritten history, alongside their Crests and Relics.”

Lysithea made a disapproving noise. “It’s not like Rhea had to deal with the repercussions of her actions. Why didn’t she mobilize the church to chase after Those Who Slither? Thanks to her complacence, I got experimented on as a child.”

“At least the Church’s mistakes are now coming to light. While it would be needlessly destructive to Fodlan’s people to remove the Church from the playing field entirely, there are some important reforms in order,” Lorenz pointed out. 

“Yeah, and it seems like Seteth is willing to listen to us. I hope Archbishop Rhea recovers, but I don’t think she will be able to continue overseeing the church in her state,” Ignatz said thoughtfully.

Lysithea groaned. “All of this noble politics is so annoying. I wish we could just tell the public everything and be done with it.”

“It is not that simple. This kind of truth would cause mass upheaval in a period when Fodlan needs peace most of all,” Dimitri said gently.

“You need not worry, Lysithea. Ferdinand, Leonie, Petra, and I have been hard at work thinking about how to ensure a just and peaceful transition into the new world. Our plans may require some adjustments, but we have time to consider our options,” Lorenz said confidently.

“Do you think that the others will be okay?” Ignatz asked, his worried gaze flitting briefly to the door of the dining hall, towards the barracks. “Sylvain seemed really torn up, and so did Mercedes.”

Dimitri thought about Mercedes’ encouraging smile as he was healing, and Sylvain’s insistence that they rely on each other in the future. “I will check on them. I owe them a great deal.”

“We should all check on our friends and ensure that we collectively have the strength to move forward. We must all be performing at our best to fight Nemesis,” Lorenz agreed.

Lysithea stood up. “I’m going to look for Cyril. He’s been a mess since we returned from Shambhala, and I doubt that today helped.”

“Let him know that we’re all here for him,” Ignatz said earnestly, and Lysithea nodded before scurrying away with her empty tray.

“Ignatz, if you would check on people in the barracks and stables, I will go scout the cathedral. Marianne in particular may share in your feelings of dismay,” Lorenz said, also standing up. “Thank you all for a lovely meal. I will see you all later.”

As Lorenz walked away, Ignatz chuckled. “He’s still so formal, but I guess old habits die hard.” Ignatz turned back to Dimitri. “Will you be okay, Dimitri?”

Dimitri nodded. “Thank you, Ignatz, but I will be fine.”

“All right.” Ignatz stood up, tray in hand, and then stopped. “I wanted to ask you, actually, how does it feel to have given up your role as king?”

Dimitri blinked. He hadn’t expected this to come up. “I still have mixed feelings about it. I cannot shake the feeling that I have failed in my duties, but I know that this is what is best for both me and for Fodlan.”

“Hmm.” Ignatz stroked his chin, deep in thought. “I think I get what you mean. I ask because I came to the Officers Academy to be a knight so that I could help my family, but it never felt right. Seeing you make the choice to do what you want to do instead of what society wants from you has given me hope that maybe I can do the same and pursue art over knighthood.”

“It seems as though you have your answer,” Dimitri said, trying to keep his voice even despite how baffled he felt. He couldn’t imagine someone looking at  _ him _ and gaining any sort of hope for the future. Knowing that someone believed in him and his choice was comforting.

“Yeah, I think I do. Thanks, Dimitri. I’ll see you around,” Ignatz said, and he left Dimitri to ponder how maybe he wasn’t as much of a failure as he thought himself to be.

~*~

**Verdant Rain Moon, Day 10**

Claude surveyed the approaching army with a small frown. “Nemesis is here… and with more soldiers than expected. Are those… the Ten Elites?”

“If Nemesis is still alive and kicking, I don’t see why the Ten Elites can’t have been revived by Those Who Slither as well,” Hilda said with a shrug.

“The remnants of Those Who Slither are there, too,” Lysithea said grimly, gesturing to the dark-cloaked figures hiding behind the larger-than-life commanders. “We can’t let a single one of them escape.”

“You said it.” Claude turned to his own army. “All right, folks. This is it. Fight like your life depends on it, but don’t get carried away. To Fodlan’s new dawn!” he cried out.

His soldiers roared behind him, and the two armies clashed.

Professor Byleth rushed at Nemesis and swung their sword; the weapon bounced off Nemesis’s armor harmlessly without leaving even the smallest dent. Claude followed up with an arrow, which also fell to the floor, useless.

“Nemesis is invincible?” Claude mused, pulling back as Nemesis and the professor entered a very one-sided confrontation. The professor was doing their best to dodge Nemesis’ strong attacks, but they could only hold up for so long. “No, there must be some trick to it. Maybe we need to defeat the Ten Elites first. Everyone, split up and take those commanders down!”

-x-

Catherine instinctively rushed towards the commander who wielded a weapon that looked so similar to her own that it could only have been Thunderbrand. “Finally, someone who can put up a good fight,” she said.

“Hmph. You think you have what it takes?” Charon pulsed with dark energy, his sword outstretched in front of him.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Catherine said, grinning despite herself.

At the end of their dance, it was she who plunged her sword through Charon’s chest, robbing him of his undead life.

-x-

Lorenz looked over his ancestor without hiding his disapproval, and his ancestor did the same to him. Lorenz almost could have laughed at the disgust on Gloucester’s face.

“You fight with the Church, with that damned Seiros who took my life? Truly, you are a disappointment to the Gloucester name,” Gloucester spat, bringing magic to his fingertips.

Lorenz scoffed. “If anyone is a disappointment to our house, it is you. Was the temptation of power truly so great that you discarded your morals and common sense by the wayside?”

Gloucester’s eyes flared, but Lorenz was not alone; as he dodged the first attack, Lysithea closed in from behind and struck the zombified commander with a powerful dark magic spell, ending his life. “Hmph. Power is nothing when compared to the support that friends can provide,” Lorenz said, kicking his ancestor’s corpse aside.

-x-

“ _ That’s _ my ancestor?” Annette squealed, ducking as Dominic dove down on her wyvern, nearly taking Annette’s head off with a swing of her axe. “She’s so cool! I wish we didn’t have to fight.”

“History has put us on different sides, young Dominic,” Dominic said, remorse creeping into her voice. “If someone has to take my life again, I would be honored for it to be you.”

“Uh, um, I’ll try to meet your expectations!” Annette cried out, and then fortuitously tripped and fell just in time to avoid another attack.

-x-

“Ugh, this is  _ so much work _ ,” Hilda whined as she effortlessly (well, not effortlessly, because how  _ dare _ her ancestor attack her and force her to pay attention) dodged another attack from Dark Freikugel. “Come on, can’t you just keel over and drop dead for me?”

“As much as I would love to, we seem to be bound to fight you to the death,” Goneril replied drily, and then attacked again.

“Dying for someone else’s cause? I would  _ never _ do that,” Hilda said, disgusted. She rolled out of the way of the attack and then darted forward as Ignatz shot a layer of cover fire from behind her.

“It wasn’t worth it. It never is,” Goneril agreed, and Hilda noted at that moment how robotic Goneril’s movements were-- how they seemed strained, against his will. 

“Well, I guess I’ll put you out of your misery,” Hilda said as she raised her axe above her head. “But you owe me a favor!”

-x-

“Oh, my, that swamp is quite dangerous,” Mercedes mused, watching as an enemy soldier mistakenly walked into the swampy land and incinerated on the spot. “You wouldn’t happen to be behind that, would you?” she asked casually, turning to where her ancestor stood.

Lamine said nothing, simply raised her hands and called a thunderbolt down on Mercedes.

“That’s not very nice,” Mercedes remarked, jumping to the side at the last minute. “All I wanted was a pleasant conversation.”

“Is now really the time for that, Mercedes?” Ashe yelped as he scurried out of the way of Lamine’s fire spell.

“Hmm, maybe not,” Mercedes acknowledged, and brought a wind spell to her fingers. “I suppose if the enemy doesn’t want to talk, then there’s only one thing to do.”

-x-

As Ingrid steered her falcon out of the way of Daphnel’s horse, she could have sworn that she heard the legendary hero whisper, “Free me.”

“Are you being held to fight against your will?” Ingrid thought aloud, landing next to Judith, who stood with her sword at the ready.

Daphnel did not answer, but simply gave Ingrid and Judith a pleading look.

“Guess we have a job to do, kid,” Judith said, expression grim.

Ingrid nodded, facing Daphnel with determination. “I won’t let you down.”

-x-

“Do you regret siding with Nemesis?” Sylvain circled his ancestor menacingly, all levity gone from his face.

Gautier scoffed, and Sylvain could imagine his eyes narrowing under his helmet. And Sylvain stabbed, not waiting for the answer he didn’t want to hear.

-x-

Felix sized up his ancestor with some interest. She rode a Falcon Knight, giving him a clear disadvantage if one went by the books, but Felix had fought worse. To fight another person with the Crest of Fraldarius would surely prove an interesting challenge.

“Let’s see if you’re all that you’re made out to be,” he said, a grin spreading on his lips.

“May the best warrior win,” Fraldarius responded, smiling in return.

The sound of their two swords clashing was music to Felix’s ears.

-x-

“One who looks so nervous does not deserve the Blaiddyd name,” Blaiddyd said, his voice booming from atop his horse.

“One who chooses the unjust path for the sake of power does not deserve to be known as a hero,” Dimitri shot back, undeterred. What his ancestor thought was nerves was actually the thrill of knowing that freedom was in his reach, if he could only overcome this last trial.

“There is nothing unjust about protecting my people and throwing off the yoke of that witch Seiros’ rule!” Blaiddyd cried out, and he charged at Dimitri with his lance outstretched.

Dimitri met Blaiddyd head on, Areadbhar clashing with Areadbhar. For the first time in his life, he nearly lacked the strength to deflect the blow. It took all of his energy just to prevent Blaiyddyd from pushing him down to his knees.

“Why do you fight to protect a deceptive ruler?” Blaiddyd asked.

“I may not agree with all of the choices that Lady Rhea made, but that does not mean that killing her is the answer. We will build the world we wish to see together,” Dimitri said firmly. He let his adrenaline and hope take over, giving him the last bit of strength to force Blaiddyd’s lance back, and the real fight began.

-x-

“Hey… can you speak?” Claude said, examining the commander in front of him with curiosity. Now that Claude was closer, he thought the commander resembled the portraits of Riegan in the history books, but he couldn’t be certain.

“Certainly, if there is someone worth speaking to,” the commander responded, and, well, that was far too  _ Riegan _ of a response for this not to be his ancestor.

“Do you have any regrets?” Claude asked, going right for the top question on his ever-expanding list.

Riegan paused, and a more aggressive person might have taken the chance to strike him down, but Claude wasn’t in a hurry. Teach was starting to hold their own against Nemesis, and his friends were all around him on the battlefield. They had his back.

“I regret,” Riegan said finally, “letting one man’s ambitions seal my fate. I regret not looking harder for another way to secure the power to protect my people against the competing conquests of Nemesis and the Adrestrian Empire.”

Claude nodded and filed that tidbit-- that the Ten Elites hadn’t all been so dedicated to Nemesis’ cause-- away for another day. “Between Nemesis and Seiros, who would you rather have sided with?”

“The victor,” Riegan said, his voice morose. “Now I am imprisoned in the loser’s chains.”

“Don’t you worry,” Claude responded, nocking an arrow in his bow. “I’ll free you.”

-x-

Byleth stood before Nemesis, their whole body vibrating with energy as Sothis’ power ran through their veins. Finally, the glow of dark energy that surrounded Nemesis had faded, and now Byleth’s students lined up behind them, some wounded, some exhausted, all ready to fight. Byleth took a moment to turn back, to revel in how much their students had matured, how far they’d all come, and then turned forward to face the battle in front of them. Claude and the others had done their part. Now, it was their turn. Fodlan’s new dawn awaited them all.


	18. Step 11: Hold Yourself Accountable For the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the war comes to a close, Dimitri faces his Kingdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said there would be one chapter left, but as I started writing, this chapter became much longer than I expected it to be, so I broke it up into two chapters for thematic reasons. The last (ACTUAL last chapter, I swear) will come some time in the next couple of weeks along with a surprise!

**Verdant Moon, Day 13**

Five years ago, Dimitri had not gotten the chance to say goodbye. Amidst the turmoil of the invasion and his ceaseless desire for revenge, he had left for Fhirdiad immediately, almost leaving even Dedue behind. Had he known that his life would be at risk, or that his friends would fight for the next five years in battle after battle, perhaps Dimitri would have taken the time to give his friends a true goodbye, one they could remember if he had died. He never got to say goodbye to his father; his last memory of his father was his dying cries rather than any sort of heartfelt message.

Dimitri wasn’t going to squander the opportunity again. He was going to say goodbye to everyone, and he was going to do it properly.

Claude had not been thrilled by Dimitri’s insistence on saying goodbye to everyone, but he quickly relented-- faster than Dimitri had expected, really-- when Dimitri asked if he could tell people that they were leaving. And of course, once one person in the army knew where they were going, everyone knew, and the Golden Deer insisted on a proper send-off, much to Claude’s dismay. Claude had just wanted to sneak off under the cover of night, and instead, he was getting a feast.

They decided to leave at the end of the month. Dimitri would need to travel up to Fhirdiad, after all, and get things settled for Rodrigue to take over as the next regent. Claude and Ferdinand had their hands full in Enbarr trying to settle things after Edelgard’s death, and Claude didn’t want to just push everything off on Ferdinand and leave in a hurry. All in all, things were as busy as they always were, and with their friends’ insistence on giving them a proper send-off, Dimitri and Claude couldn’t leave right away.

Since Garreg Mach was partly on the way to Fhirdiad, Dimitri had returned to Garreg Mach after the battle with Nemesis concluded. Claude, Ferdinand, and Bernadetta traveled south to Enbarr to continue their work in stabilizing the region. Dorothea and Petra accompanied them, with plans to head farther south to Brigid. Hilda went up north to check on her brother-- he’d sustained injuries from slowing Nemesis’ march across the continent-- and Marianne went with her so she wouldn’t be alone. Lorenz and Leonie went to Gloucester territory to fight a particularly uphill battle; they were going to declare their intent to marry, and also convince the Count to hand his Alliance seat over to Lorenz. Dimitri did not envy them in the slightest, although his own task was not easy, either.

Garreg Mach felt emptier with everyone making their first steps towards going their separate ways. As Dimitri wandered into the training hall that night, the familiar clanking of wood on wood reminded him that some things never changed. Ingrid and Felix were already there, sparring despite the fact that the war was winding down and there was no immediate need to train. Sylvain was sitting on the sidelines, leaning back against a pillar with a relaxed expression on his face. Dimitri sat next to Sylvain without saying anything. Sylvain gave him a soft smile but didn’t break the silence, content to keep watching the match.

Ingrid and Felix didn’t know how to try anything but their best, so the spar took a long time, and both were sweating and panting by the time Ingrid yielded to Felix’s overzealous swordsmanship. Sylvain had a stack of towels ready for them; he handed one to Ingrid, then balled the rest up and threw them at Felix, hitting him squarely in the face. Felix whacked Sylvain lightly in the ribs with his wooden sword in response.

“Oh, I’m injured! Someone, help me!” Sylvain said melodramatically. Felix smacked him in the face with a sweaty towel.

“You deserved that,” Ingrid said, indifferent to Sylvain’s suffering. “Oh, Dimitri, did you want to spar, too?”

Dimitri shook his head. “I am not supposed to fight until my wounds from the last battle heal.”

Felix snorted. “You need to be on your guard if you intend to travel to Fhirdiad. Cornelia may have withdrawn, but there are still plenty of people who want you dead.”

“I will be careful,” Dimitri promised.

Ingrid finished wiping her face with her towel, then dumped it in Sylvain’s hands. Sylvain made a face, and Ingrid ignored him, as per usual. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be going with you.”

Dimitri opened his mouth to protest, but Sylvain cut him off. “C’mon, Dimitri, you didn’t think we’d let you go back to Fhirdiad on your own, did you?”

Dimitri’s bewildered expression was answer enough.

“We might not be able to help you address the Kingdom, but we can at least accompany you to Fhirdiad. I mean, just imagine how lonely of a trip that would be on your own,” Sylvain said with a wink.

“I… I suppose so,” Dimitri conceded. “I had just assumed that everyone had their own things to attend to.”

“Our parents can handle things. It’s not as though we’re keeping them waiting for too much longer,” Ingrid pointed out. “Annette, Mercedes, Ashe, and Dedue will be coming, too. Everyone wants to be there to support you. Surely, you know that?”

“Clearly, he did not,” Felix said harshly, then crossed his arms. “I’m only coming to make sure you don’t do anything foolish.”

“That’s Felix-speak for, ‘I care about you and I want to watch you make this crucial decision for your well-being,’” Sylvain said, and was rewarded with another smack from a sweaty towel.

Dimitri smiled. “Thank you all. Truthfully, I had wondered if I might ask you to read my prepared speech and let me know if I am missing anything.”

“Not interested,” Felix said immediately.

“I’d love to,” Ingrid said at the same time.

Sylvain nodded, and gestured to the open training hall before them. “Let the training hall be your stage, my lord,” he said dramatically.

“Try to take this seriously,” Ingrid said scornfully.

Dimitri chuckled. “There is no reason to be so serious. If Felix does not want to listen, I can ask you for advice another time.”

“Nah, Fe will listen,” Sylvain said, and Felix scowled, but made no move to leave despite his earlier words.

“All right, then.” Dimitri took a deep breath. “Here is what I intend to say--”

**Verdant Wind, Day 20**

As Dimitri looked at himself in the mirror one last time, butterflies in his stomach, he almost didn’t recognize himself. He was wearing the silver and black eyepatch Bernadetta had made him to match the lightweight blue cloak that Mercedes had lovingly sewn. His hair had been cut and trimmed and shaved off until it was as short as he’d kept it during his academy days, and the bags under his eyes had finally started to fade. He looked like a completely different person-- the person that his kingdom was expecting to see. Dimitri closed his eye and let out a nervous breath. He wasn’t looking forward to doing this, but it needed to be done for him to truly start on the path to recovery.

“Dimitri.” Rodrigue’s voice floated in through the doorway, startling Dimitri out of his reverie. He adjusted his eyepatch one last time and then strode to the door.

“I’m ready, Rodrigue,” Dimitri said softly, facing the duke with the closest thing he could give to a confident smile.

“You look so much like your father right now. He would be so proud of you.” Rodrigue paused, then added, “ _ I _ am proud of you.”

Dimitri’s heart swelled at hearing those words, and he smiled, this time in earnest. “Thank you, Rodrigue. Shall we go?”

The pair walked silently down the long hallway to a set of curtains, through which lay a balcony where Dimitri was due to give his address to the people. Even through the curtains, Dimitri could hear the gentle murmur of the crowd awaiting him from the plaza below.

Dimitri took a deep breath and walked through the curtains, and the crowd roared.

~*~

“Thank you all for coming here today. As you may have heard by now, Lord Riegan of the Alliance successfully captured Enbarr, ending this war. Many lives were lost, and I am deeply sorry that I did not do my part to end this war sooner. While it is true that Lady Cornelia sought to end my life, that is no excuse for my absence in these last five years. I have failed in my duties to the Kingdom and to my people, and I hope that I can make amends in due time.

Nine years ago, my father, my mother, and the brave Faerghus knights who accompanied them lost their lives in a tragedy that was immediately blamed on the people of Duscur. Through the course of the war, it came to light that these treacherous actions in no part involved Duscur and instead came to pass through the machinations of Lady Cornelia, my mother, and a dissatisfied group of lords in the west. To me, this signals that more effort needs to be put in to truly unite the Kingdom and its citizens so that we are acting under a shared set of ideals.

The Kingdom, and Fodlan as a whole, needs time to heal and reconnect. I know that it is tempting to leave this war behind with feelings of hate and resentment towards the Empire, and even towards the Alliance, but I urge you all to look towards healing and realignment rather than revenge. For the Kingdom to return to stability, we must endeavor to understand each other and those who live across our borders as well.

This healing process is something that I firmly believe in, and to that point, I must admit that I do not deserve to lead it. I have committed unspeakable horrors these last five years, and it is my duty to atone for my crimes not from behind the comfort of palace doors, but as a citizen of the Kingdom like anyone else. Therefore, I will be formally handing the role of King over to Duke Fraldarius. This should not be a difficult transition, given that Duke Fraldarius has been unofficially undertaking many of the king’s responsibilities during the war, and furthermore, it was he who liberated the Kingdom from Empire rule, so I am certain that he will be an excellent King.

Thank you all for your kindness in welcoming me back to Fhirdiad. I hope to one day return as a better person, as one who can truly serve the Kingdom with all of my might.”


	19. Step 12: Say Hello to the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone says their goodbyes. Their futures await them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you all SO MUCH for sticking with me to the end. I really appreciate all the kudos and comments!
> 
> Second, my friend drew some amazing art to go along with this story, you can view it here: https://twitter.com/cassidyravelle/status/1300259155870208003?s=20
> 
> I've already started writing the sequel to this work. Once you see it, you'll understand, but I've decided to write non-linearly, so I'm actually going to post the third multi-chapter installment of this series before the second. Dimiclaude stans, if you've been waiting this whole story to see your boys get together, wait no longer!

**Verdant Rain Moon, Day 28**

Dimitri stood nervously at the door to Manuela’s office (or, as it was more commonly used during wartime, the infirmary). He owed her a lot, and he didn’t quite know the words to express that to her, but he was going to try. In his arms was a wrapped parcel, the last of the many gifts he’d delivered today. He had a lot of people to thank, and words hardly felt sufficient. That wasn’t to say that he was any better at giving gifts, but it was the thought that counted, right? 

Everyone had seemed to like their gifts, at least. He’d given Bernadetta a sleek new journal to write her stories in, and Mercedes a new set of sewing needles. He’d given Ingrid a set of stationery along with the promise to write her letters frequently, and he could have sworn that she was tearing up as she pulled him into a very strong hug. Dimitri knew Felix wouldn’t want a gift, so he’d sparred with him one last time, since his injuries had mostly healed. To Sylvain, he’d given a blanket that he’d knit himself; Sylvain had once complained that Felix kept stealing all of his blankets. Dimitri had given Ashe and Dedue a book about Duscurian flora and fauna, in the hopes that it would help in their efforts to restore the land of Duscur to its former state. Claude had given the book to Dimitri after watching him spend hours in bookstores trying to find a fitting gift. Annette had been the trickiest to find a gift for, given her talent for accidentally breaking things, so Dimitri had settled on buying her a stuffed lion. Mercedes had taken one look and added an eyepatch and a cape for flare, and Annette had squealed upon seeing it.

Dimitri walked into the office to find Professor Manuela sitting on a bed and packing the remaining medical supplies into boxes. “Oh, Dimitri. Come, sit.” Manuela moved a box off the bed in front of her to make space for him to sit on one of the beds. “Is everything all right? Are you ready to go to Almyra?”

Dimitri nodded. “I feel much more prepared thanks to all of your advice. Actually, I would like to thank you properly.” Dimitri handed the parcel to Manuela.

“Oh, my. I don’t think I did anything all that special,” Manuela said, lips quirking up into a smile. She ripped a hole into the wrapping paper, then gently peeled the pieces of paper back. When her eyes fell on the package’s contents, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Oh, Dimitri, you didn’t have to.” She wrapped herself in the knitted shawl and posed. “How do I look?”

“You look wonderful,” Dimitri said truthfully. He’d asked Mercedes for help choosing the right color, and they’d settled on a shade of orange that matched the accents of her robe. “I hope that the stitches hold together. I am not the best seamstress.”

“You made this yourself?” Manuela said incredulously, running her hand along the fabric. “I’m impressed. You’re being far too modest.”

Dimitri’s cheeks flushed red and he stuttered, unsure of how to take the compliment. “I’m glad you like it. It’s hardly enough to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Oh, Dimitri…” Manuela smiled gently, and Dimitri thought that maybe she was tearing up, but he couldn’t tell. “Quite honestly, before I became the army’s therapist, I was so drained. My office felt like a morgue, with the war churning out injured people faster than I could help them. I came to the Officer’s Academy to be a teacher, to help people find their way, not to literally save their lives! Helping you work through your trauma was the first time in a long time that I got to do what I wanted, and it gave me hope. It helped me remember that there  _ is _ a world outside of this war. I might have helped you, but you helped me, too.”

Manuela reached out and squeezed Dimitri’s hand, and tears were falling down her cheeks now as she smiled. Dimitri felt his throat choking up; he was terrible at holding it together when someone else was crying. “I am glad we could give each other hope,” he said quietly.

“So am I,” Manuela said, and pulled Dimitri into a hug. “So am I.”

~*~

**Verdant Rain Moon, Day 29**

From the little that Dimitri knew about Lorenz, he had expected Lorenz to want an extravagant wedding filled with the most well known nobles in the Alliance. Perhaps it was his and Claude’s fault for leaving Fodlan so soon, but Lorenz and Leonie instead elected to have a small wedding ceremony and reception at Garreg Mach to make their marriage official, and then have a larger ceremony with the proper nobles and procedure. Part of the reason that they had chosen to do this was because they wanted to move quickly before Count Gloucester could change his mind; the other, more important reason was that Claude and Dimitri were leaving Fodlan tomorrow and would miss the wedding if it was held any later.

Lorenz complained that Claude had once again managed to upstage his wedding, but he didn’t sound all that upset.

The ceremony was small, informal, and fast; Seteth officiated the ceremony in the cathedral, and the vows took the most time. In true Golden Deer fashion, all of the effort was put into throwing a grand feast, with everyone pitching in somehow-- Leonie, Raphael, Claude, and Petra hunted for game nearby, and Ashe, Dedue, Dorothea, and Bernadetta cooked the vegetables growing in the greenhouse. Mercedes and Annette baked and frosted a gorgeous wedding cake, and Ferdinand and Constance helped bake many other sweet treats. The tables in the dining hall were filled with food of all kinds and moved to the sides of the room, making space for a dance floor, just as they had done for the ball so many years ago. It was a fitting way to celebrate the end of the war, Dimitri thought.

After hours of dancing and eating and reminiscing and saying thank yous and goodbyes-- because really, although Dimitri and Claude were the first ones to leave, everyone was going their own ways soon enough-- the festivities began to wind down. Dimitri wasn’t the first person to leave the ballroom, but he wasn’t the last, either. He had been about to head off to his room when Hilda linked her arm through his and dragged him to the Golden Deer classroom. Dimitri didn’t resist, although with Hilda’s strength, he almost doubted that he could.

The fireplace in the classroom was lit already, and Seteth and Manuela were sitting on the floor in front of it, discussing something quietly. They both nodded and waved as Dimitri and Hilda entered. In the corner of the classroom, a bunch of mattresses had been pushed together, with pillows and blankets piled on top. Hapi and Linhardt were already passed out on the large makeshift bed, and they didn’t even stir as Balthus yelped from the other side of the room, where he, Yuri, Sylvain, and Claude were playing cards. Hilda led Dimitri over to Dorothea, Annette, and Ingrid, who were chatting as they painted each other’s nails and did each other’s hair. It was like a sleepover, like the ones he and Sylvain and Ingrid and Felix would have when they were younger. 

As the night wore on, more people filtered in. Dimitri found himself drifting from group to group. He watched the card games (and watched Yuri rob Balthus clean of all his money), listened to the girls gossip (and got his nails painted, too), sat quietly with Bernadetta as she wrote. Everyone came together to play charades once Leonie and Lorenz arrived, even waking up those who had dozed off. Finally, when enough people were starting to nod off, they retired for the night. Many of the others slept in the classroom pretty regularly, so they took their usual spots on the mattress, leaving room for everyone else to fill in the gaps. As Dimitri settled in next to Ingrid and Sylvain, his gaze fell on the chalkboard at the back of the room, dimly lit by the waning flames in the fireplace. The list that they had brainstormed earlier in the month of qualities that they wanted to see in the world was still on the chalkboard. Some things had been added, others had sub-lists or had been edited for clarity, but their shared vision was largely the same.

As his eye finally drooped shut, Dimitri listened to the steady breathing of his most trusted friends and allies all around him, and he felt that the world they wanted to build wasn’t so far away after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to read the sequel, go on to read the fourth and then fifth entries in this series. Thanks again y'all <3


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